


In a Field Where the Barley Grows

by Mayamali



Series: M's Scarecrow AU [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Happy halloween, Modern AU sort of, Romantic Friendship, scarecrow au, there was a war and whatnot idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8408587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayamali/pseuds/Mayamali
Summary: Looking for change and a fair amount of isolation, Mako buys a little farmhouse in the country. But he's not there even a day before he realizes he's not alone.Now with a sequel: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11497317Get it in paperback here: http://www.lulu.com/shop/mayamali/in-a-field-where-barley-grows/paperback/product-23264344.html





	1. Chapter 1

Staring up at the farmhouse with a cup of tea in hand, it finally struck Mako that this was the worst decision he'd ever made.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Ana was staring up at the house next to him, delicately holding her tea with a practiced grace.

Mako shrugged. “It called to me.”

“Normally when people want to get away, they go to the tropics. Jamaica, Florida.”

“I'm not normal.”

Ana snorted softly, taking a sip of her tea. “Clearly.”

“Clean it up a bit, refinish the wood – it could be decent.”

“Okay.” She said it in that way that was very clearly not okay, that way that questioned his judgment and sanity. “What about the cornfield?”

“It's fall. I'll have the winter to learn the know-how.”

Ana turned to look out at the dry, dead cornfield. A wind bristled through the stalks ominously, and she made a thoughtful noise. “The only thing that's missing is a scarecrow. Then you're living in a horror movie.”

“Better than living in a soap opera.” Mako didn't follow her gaze. He'd looked out on the field from the bedroom on the second floor earlier and knew she was right. “It's quiet.”

“It's isolated. I know you, Mako. You'd be a hermit if you could.”

He rolled his eyes at the concern in her voice. “You worry too much.” With a sigh, he started towards the house, finishing off the rest of his tea. “Just finished moving everything in today. Now it's just getting used to it.”

Ana stayed to finish her tea and give him a parting gift – an hamsa plaque to hang on his wall – before leaving him alone in a house that creaked and groaned and had terrible insulation. But yet, it had a cozy kind of charm. He quickly settled in with the nightly news and some reading.

He was just about to head upstairs to bed when he heard the rustling. Something disturbing the brush and long grass outside. All of his senses climbed into high alert, and he set his book down, reaching for the shotgun he kept hidden under the cupboard before forcing himself to stop.

It was probably just a stray cat or dog. A raccoon, most likely. Living in the country was going to come with challenges; he knew this. He slowly uncurled his fingers from the fist that had formed and grabbed his book with a sigh, retreating upstairs for the night. The rustling continued here and there, but it soon melded with the sounds of crickets and owls and he fell asleep shortly.

He woke up the next morning to a light fog, and the first thing he did was patrol for any sign of the animal he'd heard last night. Nothing was out of the ordinary, and he berate himself for overreacting before starting in on making breakfast. Turkey bacon, eggs, avocado on toast – nice and simple. He'd just finished eating when there was a knock on the door.

“Surprise!” Lucio held out a basket as Mako opened the door. One of the kids that worked at the coffee shop Mako liked to visit, the only place that could properly do a flat white (thanks to his instruction). “And greetings from Hana, too. She had to work.”

Mako took the basket with a nod of gratitude, glancing it over. A variety of generic housewarming things - a pig-shaped coffee mug caught his eye. He looked back up and stepped aside to invite Lucio in.

“Wow. This place isn't nearly as creepy as Ana said it was.” Lucio craned his neck, taking in as much as he possibly could as though he wanted desperately for his head to be able to rotate 360 degrees, like an owl.

“It's got a charm,” Mako said, setting the basket down by the couch.

“Exactly!” Lucio peered out the window at the cornfield while Mako put the kettle on and laughed quietly to himself. “Nice touch. Really gets you in the spirit.”

“Spirit of what?”

“Halloween.”

“What are you talking about?”

Lucio nodded out the window. “Your scarecrow.”


	2. Chapter 2

There was a scarecrow on the post in the middle of the field. Mako stared at it, half-expecting it to disappear the second he blinked. It didn't. “That's not mine.”

“What?” Lucio looked up at him quizzically.

“That wasn't there yesterday.”

Lucio looked between him and the scarecrow, then guffawed. “Hah! Man, you really had me going. Lucky you, I don't scare easy.”

Mako looked down, puzzled. He thought it was a joke. “No, I -”

“Well, I just wanted to come by and see the new digs. This seems like a nice place for a Halloween party. Or a good barbecue, anyway.” Lucio patted Mako's arm, heading for the front door and pulling his coat closed. “Don't be a stranger out here!”

The door closed, leaving Mako alone. He looked back out the window. The scarecrow was still there.

He turned off the burner as the kettle started to whistle, slipped on his shoes and a jacket, and stepped out the back door.

The hairs on his arms stood up as he approached, and the feeling soon climbed up to the back of his neck as he stood in front of it, staring. It was disturbingly lifelike, with a strange goggle-eyed mask and straw hair and a missing leg and arm. He guessed it was burlap with the way the 'skin' was stitched up, but it had a hand and a foot that looked... real.

He didn't realize he was backing away until the scarecrow became partially covered by stalks of corn. Mako swallowed and went back inside, unable to turn his back on it.

He made himself tea and sat down to idly watch daytime television, but between the terrible soap operas and talk shows, he found himself getting distracted and glancing back towards the scarecrow. It didn't move – of course it didn't move. Why would it move?

Thankfully, he was distracted the rest of the day with unpacking last-minute deliveries and making the most of the basket Lucio had given him. The pig mug sat on the counter, ready to be used the next day, and a simple welcome mat had been rolled up tightly and carefully placed in the basket as well. He set it just outside the door and took a moment of pride in how it helped make the house feel more like home.

He was upstairs, about to take the last step into sleep when he heard a loud 'bang' from outside. He shot up in his bed, half-caught in a memory that made his breath catch in his throat, and noticed the owls had gone quiet. He narrowed his eyes and quietly got out of bed, grabbing shoes, a coat, and a flashlight. As he got downstairs, he grabbed the shotgun as well, muscles going tense at another 'bang' echoing from outside.

It was the old barn. It had a hole in the roof from years of disuse, but he was paying more attention to the fact that the door was open.

He nudged it open with the barrel of the shotgun, flashing his light inside. Nothing. But years of instinct told him to check everything. It was better to be safe than sorry.

He entered the barn, moving just slowly enough that he would be able to tell another set of footsteps apart from his own. He got to the end of the barn and there was nothing except the remnants of bird nests that had fallen from the rafters, and he relaxed with a long sigh.

Until, behind him, the barn door slammed shut. He quickly turned and scanned his flashlight around the room. Still nothing. Just a stray wind, he told himself, but he still moved slowly back to the barn door.

He placed a hand on the wood and was just about to push it open when a voice rasped behind him, lilting playfully, dangerously: “It's someone new.”


	3. Chapter 3

Mako immediately swung his shotgun behind him, jamming the butt of the gun into whatever was behind him. There was a grunt as he hit something solid, and he turned, clumsily balancing his gun and his flashlight.

It was the scarecrow, clutching its face with a hiss. Makos' heart stopped as it slowly stood up, moving in a slightly jerky motion. In the light, he cursed his stupidity – what he'd assumed was burlap was actual skin, sewed up roughly.

“You're rude,” it said, reaching for him. Mako pulled the trigger without thinking and heard only a 'click'. He'd forgotten to load it. So instead, he lashed out with it again, smashing it against the hand. It yelped, pulling back once more and hissing as Mako shined the light right into the goggles over its eyes. “Turn that off! Christ, mate, it hurts!”

It had an accent. Obnoxiously, strongly Australian – an accent he knew well.

“What the fuck,” Mako said, finding it hard to sound strong. The hay of the barn was starting to get to him, and he hadn't grabbed his inhaler in his preparation.

The scarecrow peered at him over his arm, held out to block the light. “I just wanted to – I just wanted to talk!”

“Fucking – great way to start off, you creepy fuck.” It was getting difficult to breathe. He tried to hide it, setting the gun aside to push the barn door open.

“It's been so quiet.” The scarecrow lowered its arm, cocking its head all the way to the side in a jerky, unnatural motion. “So quiet.”

“Shut -” Mako couldn't finish his sentence as he coughed, and he knew he was done for. It started light, then quickly elevated to deep, wheezing coughs. His flashlight hit the straw floor with a dull thud as he dropped it and doubled over, struggling to catch a breath and failing.

The scarecrow took one step forward, then another. Mako was painfully aware as it got closer, but any attempt to try and straighten up was met with another hacking cough. A hand reached out, and he could see its dirty, discolored fingernails, and he heaved a last bit of strength to slam his back into the door and shove it open, falling onto the grass.

The cold air only made it harder to catch his breath. The crunch of dead grass told him what he already knew, and soon the scarecrow was looking down on him. It crouched down, and Mako couldn't see anything behind the glass of its goggles.

He closed his eyes. Was this really how he was going to die? How pathetic.

But nothing happened. He felt the grass underneath him and cold air – just enough to keep him alive, but not enough to stop the coughing - infiltrating his airways. Then he felt hands curling under his arms, one fleshy and clammy and the other cold and hard. He tried to struggle, earning a hushing coo from the _thing_ above him.

He let himself be dragged, wanting to ask where it was taking him but only managing a few wheezing words. Now that he was away from the dust and straw and hay, his airways were clearing. He felt the bump of stairs on his back before he was let go, hearing a strange 'thump-clack' pattern on the wood behind him.

He forced himself to sit up. He was on the stairs of the back patio. Mako took the opportunity to climb his way up the stairs and slam the door shut behind him. The scarecrow stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at him through the window. He shut the curtains, quickly moving to obscure any view from outside while he had his second wind.

He went back upstairs to get his inhaler, but even once he could breathe, he refused to let sleep claim him until the sky filled with the light purple and pink of sunrise.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a dream, surely.

Surely he had just breathed too much dust and had an asthma attack, and the nerves of being in a new house away from civilization had played tricks on his mind. It had probably been a prank by some neighborhood kids who had gotten too bored during fall break.

He made himself coffee and poured it into his pig mug. The morning weather mentioned clear skies and a warm front coming through. That'd be nice, he thought to himself as he took a drink of coffee. Open the windows, get some fresh air.

Once he'd eaten lunch and gotten dressed to head into town, he decided to check on the barn, just in case. He opened the back door and his heart immediately stopped at the sight of the scarecrow slumped over on itself, leaned against the fence of the back patio.

Mako watched it with bated breath, but it didn't move. He reached out to nudge its shoulder – it was solid, but it didn't react. He watched it carefully as he moved down the stairs and quickly made his way to the barn. The shotgun and flashlight were right where he'd left them, and he quickly grabbed them and headed back to the house. The scarecrow still hadn't moved, and he watched it for another minute before making sure the house was locked and heading for his truck.

It definitely hadn't been a dream.

“How's the new place?” Lucio asked lightly as he got his usual coffee, and he paused to think of an answer.

“It's an adjustment,” he said.

“I bet. Lucio said it gives total 'haunted house' vibes!” Hana chimed in, leaning on the counter. “I bet it'd be fun to decorate for Halloween!”

“It doesn't need decoration.”

“Yeah, not with that creepy scarecrow.”

“Scarecrow?” Ana chimed in curiously as she approached the counter, giving Hana a warm smile. “You're committing to the 'house you see in horror films' trope, I see.”

Mako shrugged and excused himself. He just had to buy some varnish and sealant for the colder, wetter months to make sure his house didn't leak, but he couldn't help but think about the scarecrow. It had seemed... _human_. And that's what had unnerved him the most. That and the goggles covering its eyes, almost completely opaque. It must have been what everyone else saw when he...

He pushed the thought out of his mind, handed the cashier their payment, and headed back to the truck. It was getting late by the time he got home, so he vowed to seal the wood the next day he had off as he made himself microwave squash ravioli.

Once the sun had set, he heard it. The 'thump-clack' of the thing moving around on his porch. He tried to ignore it and succeeded up until it started talking.

“I just want to talk,” it simpered outside of his window, talking more to itself than him, it seemed. “So quiet.”

He turned up the TV and tried to pay attention to some special on some outlaw cowboy still at large.

“They never stay after they find me.”

Mako furrowed his brow.

There was a scratching at his door and he couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed a hand-scythe from the wall – he had found it in the barn on his initial tour of the property and decide it'd make good decoration – and flung the front door open, stepping out to drive off this thing once and for all.

And then he tripped over it.

It had been curled up in front of his door, yelping again as he kicked it roughly and had to dig his fingers into the door frame to keep from falling. “Shut. Up,” Mako growled, brandishing the scythe. “Go back to wherever you came from, you freak.”

The thing laughed, a maniacal, unhinged sound. “See! See, ya – you've got spunk! Feisty!”

“I'm not kidding. What the hell are you?”

It shrugged, splaying its arms out oddly like it had been on the post the first time Mako had seen it. “I don't know!”

“Where'd you come from?”

“I don't know!” It sounded more agitated this time.

“Why -”

“I don't know, I don't know, I DON'T KNOW!” The thing wailed, its voiced cracking and croaking and reverbing oddly in Mako's ears. “I just – please let me -”

“Let you what? What do you want?”

“To _talk_!” It clambered forward on its hands and knees, standing up. Mako could see it had tied a wooden peg to replace its missing leg and had found a mechanical arm somewhere – it reminded Mako of the Bastion units from the war. “No one ever comes here. Why did you?”

Mako hesitated, watching the thing. It didn't wait for him to answer before moving on, clearly just grabbing for any opening to speak. “Who are you? What brought you here?”

“If you shut up,” Mako interrupted, holding up his hand. He still had the scythe in a death-grip. “If you shut up and... if I talk to you, will you leave me alone?”

The thing shuffled its hands together, an oddly unsure gesture.

“Will you leave me alone?” Mako repeated severely.

“Yes.”

Mako watched it for a moment. “Fine.” And, against his better judgment, he stepped back and opened the door to let the thing inside. But it didn't move. Mako nodded his head. “Come in.” It still hesitated. “I'm not sitting outside in this cold.”

“It's cold?” it repeated, as though the concept was entirely foreign to it. “...No one's let me in before.”

“Mark this as a first.”

Finally, the scarecrow stepped forward, glancing up at Mako before going inside.

Mako closed the door and settle in on the couch, gesturing to the arm chair to his left. “Sit.” The scarecrow hesitated again before obeying, sitting awkwardly in the chair. It seemed like it was trying to be proper and failing.

“What are you?” Mako tried again. The scarecrow shook its head. “You don't remember anything?”

It looked down at its hands, which Mako noticed were tapping fingers together and pulling along loose threads in its clothing. “I woke up on the post. Got my way loose.”

“That's it?” It nodded. “You said there were others?”

“Mm. Last one was a family. Lady with her kids. Youngest was nice. But they left. They always leave when they find me.”

“Where were you when I moved in?”

“The barn. I live there. Sleep in the straw. You were sick.” It changed the subject so effortlessly, so quickly, that Mako's next questions died in his throat.

“It's – the dust. My lungs aren't good.” He paused, eyebrows furrowing. “You brought me back to the house. You're strong.”

It tittered quietly at that, drumming its fingers on its knees.

“Why'd you bring me back?”

“Thought you was gonna die. Didn't want that. Leave it to me to kill the first sign of life in months.”

“Who else was here?”

“Farmers. Left when I kept movin' around. Said the land was cursed. Why'd you come?”

“I... wanted to get away.”

“From what?”

“A lot of things.” Mako ran a hand over his graying hair. “War.”

“I remember a war,” the thing mused, wonder in its voice. “I remember a war.”

“There've been a lot of wars.”

The thing thought on that for a while before sitting up straight. “Who are you?”

Mako hesitated for a moment. Did he really want this thing knowing his name? It seemed harmless now that it was sat down, sitting in light and talking. “Mako,” he finally answered.

“Mako!” It chirped, clapping its hands in front of its face. “Ma-ko, Mako.” It giggled, and he immediate regretted telling it his name.

“Don't push it. You don't have a name? At all?”

It paused to reflect on that for a while. “Thing.”

“That's not a name.”

“S'the only one I know.”

Mako sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees while he looked at... it. The voice was masculine, but swung high and low all over the place. “Crow?” he tried. It was neutral.

“Think I'm more of a rat, really,” it giggled, making a weird, wistful noise. “But it'll work. Y'know if you name things it means you're gonna keep 'em.”

Mako gave it a warning look, but it only giggled again. Damn, this thing was weird. But it was also almost... pitiable.

“Mako,” Crow said, still testing the new sound on its tongue. “Why're you alone?”

“Needed to get away. I like the quiet.”

“Get away from what?”

He thought on that for a long time. “Memories.”

“Why would you wanna get away from those? I'd kill to have _somethin'_ like that.” Crow stopped fidgeting for a second at the look Mako gave it and hastily added, “Not literally. I ain't like that.”

“So you're just a regular, sentient scarecrow? As opposed to the murderous kind?”

“Nah, that's me poor aunt Martha.” Crow cackled, a high-pitched sound that made Mako a little uneasy. “Must be bad memories if you wanna shake 'em bad enough to come out here.”

“Bad enough.” An owl called outside, and it served as a sudden reminder of just what time it was. Mako stood up with a grunt. “It's getting late. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Crow stammered, standing up as well with a small amount of panic in its voice. “I-I know you told me to shut up if we talked, but -”

“We didn't _finish_ talking, though,” Mako said, heading towards the kitchen. “One more night.” He was nearly knocked over as Crow jumped onto his back, wrapping its arms around his neck. Mako started to struggle, pulling at his arms until he realized it wasn't an attack. It was a hug.

Crow let go with a high giggle, limping to the back door as Mako unlocked it and opened it, still surprised by the gesture. “I'll be in the barn. Sunlight makes me all weird and stiff. I hate it. We can... talk more when the sun goes down, yeah?”

“Sure.”

Crow looked at him for a moment (or at least he assumed it was looking at him; at the least, it turned its head towards him) and then went through the door, his shape disappearing into the darkness.

Mako locked the doors, drew the curtains, and laid awake in his bed for a solid hour before sleep claimed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crow = junkrat
> 
> just in case if needs clarifying :3


	5. Chapter 5

Work was just dull enough for him to lose himself in and forget about Crow. Thankfully, the weather was dry enough to wrap up construction jobs, so he'd have solid work for the month. Enough to buy materials to earn his way through winter.

He had settled into his normal routine, grabbing a flat white at the cafe with a book, when the clicking of heels approached his table by the window and stopped. “Hello,” a light voice said. “Do you mind if I sit here while I wait?”

Mako looked up. It was a woman, with fair blonde hair and blue eyes and a gentle but slightly clinical smile gracing her young-looking face. “Plenty of empty chairs,” he said after a quiet snort.

“Yes, but this one is the most appealing.” After a moment, the woman sat down across from him, folding her hands across her lap. “You just moved into that farmhouse, yes? The one in the country?”

Mako tried to ignore her, instead re-reading a sentence he'd worked through three times at this point.

“Interesting. The last time someone lived there, I was still in school.” The woman laughed fondly at the notion. “Town legends say it's cursed.”

“I don't pay attention to that stuff,” he finally replied, getting the hint that she wouldn't be leaving him alone.

“Not even if you noticed something strange?”

Mako finally looked up. She was still smiling patiently at him, but there was something in her eyes that made him wonder. “Like?”

“The neighborhood children dare each other to talk to a scarecrow around your property sometimes. They swear it talks back and moves at night. Strange, is it not?”

He closed his book, but before he could say anything, Hana called out from the counter, “Angela?”

The woman looked up, then turned back to him. “There's my order. Have a good evening.” With that, she stood up gracefully and left, heading to the counter. Mako stared after her for a long moment.

Crow was in the barn, splayed out in the far corner, completely motionless and stiff. The sun hadn't completely gone down yet, but it would soon. Mako set his lantern down in the straw, laid out a picnic blanket, and waited. He was curious to see how Crow 'woke up'.

He didn't wait long to find out. Without warning, Crow's entire body jolted violently, and it took in a deep gasp of air. It flexed its arm, then leg, then false arm and leg, and only then did it seem to notice Mako was there.

“You saw where I live,” Mako said simply in explanation. The light glinted off of the goggles of its lens eerily, casting a supernatural glow as it cocked its head at him.

“Aren't you...” Crow paused, as though trying to remember the word. “Cold.”

Mako pulled at the collar of his heavy jacket. “This'll keep it out for a while.”

“Keep it out?”

“The cold.”

“You can't keep out cold. It's not a thing.”

“It's a figure of speech.” Mako shifted on the blanket. “Crow, I need you to think. Do you remember a woman? Blonde hair, blue eyes?”

Crow went still for a long moment, then slowly shook its head. “Does she know me?”

“I think so. But she didn't say.”

They were both silent for a long moment, Mako's breath curling in the air before him. Crow watched, then crawled up to almost press its mask right up to his face. He tried to pull away to ask what it was doing, but it followed him and just... stared. Suddenly, it raised a hand and swept its fingers through the frost his breath created in the cold air, as though trying to grab it.

Mako huffed a chuckle at that, and Crow jerked back in surprise. The light glinted off of its lens again, and Mako had a thought. “Is there anything under there?”

“Under...”

“The mask.”

“...I never...”

“Try.” Crow was still. It seemed the idea of removing the mask had never even occurred to it. Mako took a long breath. “I won't let anything bad happen.” It was weird to make a promise like that, but it wasn't be the first promise he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep.

Crow finally nodded, slowly, then lifted its hands to curl fingers into the burlap. It twisted, letting the goggles of its eyes go askew, then pulled up. Mako watched, his breath still in his throat, as the mask lifted – and with it, the little ponytail made of straw. It had looked like Crow's actual hair, but it seemed to be attached to the mask.

Crow let the mask hit the straw ground with a dull 'thump' and opened its eyes. Its thick, untamed eyebrows furrowed at Mako, and it cocked its head to the side.

It looked human. It had a human face, human-looking blonde hair that tried to defy the laws of physics in the way that it twisted upwards, and a flawed human nose that was way too big and snout-like. But the dull orange glow of its eyes and the deep, stitched-up scars on its face reminded him that this thing was anything but human. “I showed the kid once,” Crow muttered quietly after a moment. “I remember. She said I was pretty.”

“That must've been one weird kid.”

Crow's lips split into a grin, unnaturally wide. “Jealous?”

“Of you? Hell no.”

“Nah, you wouldn't be,” Crow said thoughtfully. “You're prettier.”

Mako snorted derisively. Crow shifted forward and touched its fingers to his cheek, pulling back when Mako jerked away. “Sorry. You look soft.”

'Soft' was never a word Mako would have used to describe himself. His arms were thick with muscle and his scars stood out on his flesh like sore thumbs. But Crow's fingers were rough and calloused, much like his own. Maybe this was 'soft' to him.

“D'you have a mirror? I... don't know what I look like.” Crow's smile was lopsided, almost sheepish. Mako shook his head and looked back towards the barn door. The cold was settling in through his jacket and into his skin now.

“In the house,” he said.

Crow perked up at that, but waited until Mako had stood up before getting up itself, grabbing Mako's arm to help balance. Mako let it, worming his arm away once it was on its feet. Foot?

It followed him without question this time, pausing in the kitchen to grab Mako's pig mug with a smile. “Cute.” Mako cleared his throat to get its attention again and it absently set the mug back down to follow it to the mirror on the wall in the powder room, a remnant of the farmhouse's long history.

It took a deep breath before looking in the mirror. It blinked, turned its head to see the angles of its jaw, leaned forward against the sink to peer closer. Mako leaned on the door frame, watching its smile fade into a perplexed expression. “You okay?”

It didn't reply. Mako looked down and saw its fingers digging into the sink, trembling slightly. It took a deep breath and leaned back, letting go of the sink. “Yeah. That's weird. I look weird.”

“You're fine.” It felt weird to reassure someone about something like this. Mako frowned.

“Yeah?” Crow looked at him. It was just a head shorter than him like this, standing up straight. He hadn't noticed before; it was only then that he realized that Crow must hunch over a bit normally.

Mako cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I gotta work again tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Crow looked back in the mirror, mimicking Mako's frown with disturbing accuracy. “You know... I can help ya. Keep those damn kids off your lawn.”

“You're offering to... patrol?”

“Patrol. Scare crows.” Crow looked back at him with a cheeky, one-sided grin, and it took Mako a second to get the joke.

“Get out.” Despite himself, Mako couldn't help but smile. Crow cackled at the reaction it got and patted Mako on the arm as it thump-clacked into the hallway and towards the front door. “Good night.”

The sound stopped. Mako looked out after Crow, seeing it had stopped and was just kind of standing there. “You too,” it said awkwardly, quietly, before making its way out the front door and closing it behind it.

Leaving Mako standing there, wondering what the hell had possessed him to say that.


	6. Chapter 6

Mako came home late the next day. There was a lot of work to catch up on, so much that he didn't even have time to visit the cafe. The sky was the pink-purple hue of sunset when he got out of his truck and went to carry all of his stuff home. He'd just turned on the oven to preheat for dinner when he heard a strangled scream from outside.

Crow was knelt on the floor of the barn, clawing at its mask and gasping with sobs when Mako threw open the barn door. “Crow -” he tried. It didn't respond, instead just screaming again. No, it wasn't quite a scream. It was more of a wail. “Crow!”

He knelt down in the straw and grabbed Crow's shoulders, and it immediately stopped, jerking upright to stare at him. It went still, and it was only the rise and fall of its shoulders that told Mako it was alive.

“That ain't my name,” it said finally, voice hoarse.

“You... remember? Your name?”

“Jamison... son?” It sounded puzzled, like it wasn't quite sure that was right. “Jamie-son. Jamison. I think. I hear people sayin' it. Usually angry.”

“Jamison,” Mako repeated, watching Crow bob its head after a moment. “How did you remember?”

“I dreamed it. This barn – people – they were mad and...” Crow stopped, its head shaking as another sob shook its shoulders. “I don't remember.”

“You're starting to. What happened?”

“My... face. I think. Seein' it.” Crow took a shuddering breath and leaned forward, pressing its forehead against Mako's chest.

He paused, then gently patted its arm. He let it rest on him for a moment then pulled it up to its feet. “Come on.” He led it back into his house and sat on the couch, patting the spot next to him. It hesitantly sat next to him and pulled its mask off. Its face had weird pale streaks trailing from its eyes. Mako turned on the TV and sat back. “Let's just distract you for a bit.”

Crow looked at Mako, then looked back to the TV. Eventually it curled up, bringing it feet up on the cushions and leaning against Mako's side. Mako decided to give it a free pass. “Do you still want to be called Crow? Or is... Jamison okay?”

Crow tensed a bit at the mention of its name and hummed quietly. “Okay... It's okay.”

“Okay. Jamison.”

They sat in silence, watching the evening news. Eventually Crow – Jamison, Mako corrected himself – started asking questions. “The family before put up pictures. You don't.”

Mako just grunted, changing the channel to some kind of cooking channel. “Don't have pictures to put up.”

“No family?”

“Not anymore.” Jamison leaned heavier into him at that. Mako noticed it wasn't warm like another person should be, just kind of... room temperature. “The war changed that.”

“You keep sayin' that. The war. The one with the robots?”

Mako looked down at it, surprised. “Yeah.”

“How long ago was that?”

“...Twenty years.” Jamison murmured in awe at that, staring straight ahead at the TV. “Feeling better?”

“Me head still hurts a bit. Not sure I mind, though. If it means I get to do this to forget, s'worth it.” Mako looked down to see the cheeky smirk on its face and shoved it lightly with his shoulder, smiling despite himself at the way it yelped and flailed to regain its balance.

“Don't get used to it,” he yawned, stretching out his legs. “Do you think you'll remember anything else?”

“Maybe. Nothing's ever made me remember before.” Jamison paused, then pulled away slightly to look at him. “I... kind of want to, though. I think I wanna know.”

“If that was your reaction to remembering your name...”

Jamison nuzzled back into him. “It's gonna be hard. We'll see. Should I let you sleep?”

Mako thought on that for a moment with a quiet noise. “Actually... Do you know if you can leave?”

“Leave?”

“The farm. Have you ever tried?”

“Once, I think. Long time ago. Got pretty far.”

“Good.” Mako grabbed the remote and turned off the television, standing up with a grunt and leaving Jamison to fall onto its side with a little sound of surprise. “Come with me.”

He'd kept his bike toward the side of the house. One of the first projects he'd wanted to start on was making a small garage for it, but in the meantime, he'd had to toss a tarp over it, and it made his heart hurt every single time. Jamison watched, entirely curious as Mako double-checked it to make sure nothing got into it before rolling it out to the gravel driveway. “I could use a ride. Wanna come with?”

“I've never...” Jamison stepped closer, examining the motorcycle closely.

Mako took his seat on the bike and turned the engine, closing his eyes as he listened to it roar and purr. He opened them again to pat the seat behind him. “Mark this as a first.” Jamison hesitated, then slowly inched forward, holding out a hand to touch the leather of the seat. After a second, it followed Mako's movements to settle in behind him. “You can hold onto the seat or put your arms on my waist. Whichever works for you.”

He hadn't even finished his sentence when Jamison wrapped its arms around his waist. He huffed quietly, kicked up the stand, and pulled out of the driveway. Jamison held on a little tighter, making a little noise of surprise as the gravel ground underneath the tires.

Once they pulled onto the road, Mako hit the gas, and he couldn't help but smile at the fond memories it brought back of him in his leathers, cruising down highways like he'd had all the time in the world. Jamison's fingers curled into his chest, and he kicked down the gas a little more.

The wind whipped through his hair as he drove, and time just seemed to stand still as the corn fields and farmhouses blew by in a blur of beige and shapes. Once he slowed down at a corner, he noticed Jamison was making noises. He tried to listen a little closer – and realized it was laughing. Gleefully, like it had rediscovered the concept of joy.

Mako kicked on the engine and pulled a U-turn to head back to the farm.

Jamison hooted victoriously as they pulled to a stop and Mako killed the engine, pumping its fists into the air. “Mark it as a first,” it sang, grinning at Mako as he turned to look at it. “First foray!”

“I take it you enjoyed the trip?”

“Yes.” Jamison wrapped its hands around his waist again and hugged itself against his back tightly. “Thank you.”

Mako just shrugged, waiting until it pulled away to put down the stand and get off the bike, rolling it to the side of the house and covering it again with the tarp. “It's nice to get on the road again once in a while.”

“Why do you keep it covered up like that?”

“It's getting too cold to ride.”

“Oh.” Jamison stood in the road, watching Mako pull the tarp down tight to make sure nothing could get into his bike. Finally, he turned and looked at Jamison, then looked up at the sky. It was starting to shift from black to blue, just barely.

“Looks like it's almost sunrise. We were out for a while.”

Jamison frowned and kicked his foot into the gravel. “The thing I hate about... this.” He gestured to himself. “Somethin' about bright light and sun. Either hurts or puts me to sleep.”

“You seemed okay inside with the lights on.”

“The lights inside aren't bright enough to hurt.” Jamison shrugged, crossing its arms in front of its chest.

Mako grunted quietly at that. “Do you want to... watch some TV before you, uh...”

“Go stiff? That sounds bad, don't it?” Jamison smiled with a little giggle. “I get bored without folks to talk to. Guess I could... patrol or something.”

Mako nodded. It was too late for any sane person to be wandering about. But then again, he mused, in a town where a scarecrow comes to life at night, sanity might be objective. “Alright.”

Jamison shifted its fingers on its thighs before rushing forward to wrap its arms around Mako in a tight, brief hug. Before Mako could react, it shambled off in a limping sprint, disappearing into shaking stalks of corn.

Mako watched after him for a few minutes before heading back inside. He fell asleep surprisingly fast, but then again, the comfort of being on his bike again probably helped. It was a nice, dreamless sleep, completely uninterrupted by the faint echoes of giggles and rustling brush outside.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't forget this existed! Holidays and writer's block, blegh.

Mako saw the strange woman at the cafe the next day after he'd finished work. This time, he was the one that approached her as she sat by the window, daintily nursing a ceramic coffee mug. “What do you know about my house?”

She looked up at him idly with a patient smile. “A 'hello' would be nice.”

“Hi,” he said drily, to emphasize how unamused he was. “What do you know about my house?”

She set the mug down and smoothed out her skirt below the table before folding her hands in front of her. “Just rumors.”

“Don't. You knew about the scarecrow.”

“I know what I've _heard_ about the scarecrow.”

Mako huffed, drawing a hand over his hair. “Listen. Jamison – it -”

“Jamison?” The woman's smile froze slightly at that, her coy game of ignorance ending momentarily. “Who told you that name?”

“It did.” Mako lowered his voice, well aware their conversation wasn't private by any means. “I want your help.”

She watched him for a moment and leaned back with a sigh, picking up her cup again. “I can't.”

“Can't or won't?”

“Jamison received his curse for a reason. It's up to him to end it.”

“So you won't tell me anything?”

“Nothing you don't already know.” She took a sip of coffee. “The land you now own is special. Cursed.” She paused for a moment, then set her cup down again and looked him in the eyes, speaking gently but cryptically. “I'd suggest you really look around the property. You may find something that could shed some light on your friend's circumstances.”

Mako returned her gaze, searching for any sign she might be lying. All he saw was a calm confidence. He leaned back with a sigh and nodded. “Alright. I might do that.”

She reached forward to put her hand on his. Her skin was smooth, her hands cold. “Good luck.”

He didn't hesitate, giving Hana and Lucio a wave of acknowledgment before getting in his truck and driving as fast as he could back to the farm. He needed to use daylight to his advantage.

He started on the perimeter, the thin stretch between grassland and the cornfield. He searched for any upturned stone, any landmark that didn't seem natural. But after an hour and a half of searching and two trips around the perimeter, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He stopped at the barn with a sigh, leaning against the back wall to let himself cool down and catch his breath in the shade it provided.

He found the hole when he nearly fell into it.

It was long, oblong, and filled in with caved-in dirt and dead leaves. Mako had seen enough makeshift graves to recognize one when he saw it. He swallowed heavily and dug into it just a little more. Fortunately, there weren't any remains inside, at least none that he could find.

He looked around by the grave, but nothing else seemed out of place. The crunching of leaves behind him made him turn, ready to swing a meaty fist until he saw the orange glow of Jamison's eyes in the darkness, staring down at the grave. The sun had set, the sky a hazy purple, and he hadn't even realized it. “You scared me.”

Jamison didn't reply. Mako watched him for a second, stepping closer as his eyebrows furrowed. “Jamison?”

The scarecrow's hands started to shake again and it – he, Mako remembered from his conversation with the strange woman earlier – fell to his knees. “This. This is mine.”

“Yours?” Jamison nodded slowly, and Mako took in a deep breath when he realized what he was saying. “Did you know this was here?”

“Sorta. I always... avoid it. Makes my chest hurt.” Jamison gently thumped a fist against his chest, right above his heart. “Right here.”

Mako knelt next to him, helping him stand back up. “You died here?”

“Yeah. Think... that's why I'm...” Jamison looked down at his flesh hand and went silent for a moment. He sucked in a deep, sudden breath, reaching out for Mako's arm and holding it in a death grip. Mako hissed quietly, more in surprise of his strength than in pain, and held onto him. “Who was I?” Jamison asked, voice shaking.

“We'll find out.” Mako gently started to pull him towards the house, and Jamison hesitantly followed. “Do you want tea?”

Jamison stared blankly ahead before mumbling, “Boba.”

“What?”

“I... I remember. I used to like boba. Milk tea. Half-sweet.”

Mako just looked at him for a moment, not quite understanding. “I dunno what the hell boba is, but I can do regular milk tea.”

Jamison nodded slowly with a weak laugh. “Okay.”

He set Jamison on the couch and turned the television on while he went to make tea. Jamison seemed to be remembering more and more about himself, which should've been a good thing. But really, what's so good about remembering you're dead? Mako sighed heavily as he carefully stirred sugar into one of the mugs. His tea-making skills were rusty enough that he wasn't entirely sure what constituted as 'half-sweet'.

He brought the tea out, setting Jamison's mug on the coffee table. He was curled up against the armrest of the couch, feet drawn up on the cushions. Mako let it slide this time.

“Are you okay?”

“Nah.” Jamison uncurled to reach for the tea and take a sip, seemingly unaware it was boiling hot.

“Right. Stupid question.” Mako crossed his arms, watching Jamison for a moment as he nursed his tea with a small wrinkle of his nose. “Do you remember anything else about yourself?”

Jamison murmured indistinctly, setting his cup back down on the table after taking another drink. “People didn't like me much, I think. Talked to me like I was a kid. Some yelling... but... that's it.”

Mako nodded solemnly, contemplating for a long moment before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That woman I asked you about…”

“What?” Jamison wrinkled his nose.

“Blonde, blue eyes –“

“Blue eyes! Yeah,” Jamison said at the exact same time, recognition lighting up his eyes. “Right. What about ‘er?”

“She knows you. I asked her. She said… you received your curse for a reason.”

“Curse?”

“Something about the land.”

“She wouldn’t tell ya what the reason was?”

“No, she said it was up to you.”

Jamison was silent for a moment, then he tossed his hands up with a somewhat dramatic screech of “OKAY! SURE! ‘Oh hurr, yeah, Jamie, you deserved this but I’m not gonna say why!’ Fuck ‘er!”

Mako blinked. This was the most negative emotion he’d seen from Jamison yet, and something about the low growl in his voice told him it wasn’t nearly as much as he was capable of. “I know –“

“Do ya?” Jamison glanced at him, eyebrows furrowed in a way that denied sympathy and made Mako fall silent. His fingers danced on his legs as he finished his tea in silence, and it stretched on for a good few minutes. “Sorry,” he mumbled vaguely under his breath.

“No. I don’t know what you’re feeling right now. You’re right.”

Jamison looked to him again, but his eyes were much less harsh. Apologetic, like a puppy that got yelled at for something it didn’t remember doing. “I just... I wanna remember. I wanna remember. But I dunno _how_.”

Mako reached out an arm, and Jamison took the invitation quickly, curling in on his side. Sympathy felt weird, warm but also tense, and his shoulders refused to relax. That, combined with a sudden, loud whistle from outside, made him nearly launch himself from the couch. He accidentally pulled Jamison up with him, who stumbled and almost crashed into the coffee table.

“What? What was –“

Mako hushed him, moving to the window to open the blinds just in time to see the pop and explosion of lights. Fireworks? “Stay here,” he commanded to Jamison over his shoulder, not even waiting for a response before he moved to the front door and stepped outside.

There was laughing and quiet conversation from somewhere ahead of him. Teenagers, he decided from the high pitches. A few of them. “Hey!” he shouted, pushing dead stalks aside. “What’re you doing?”

“Shit,” one of the voices said, panicked.

“Relax, it’s just that fatass old dude,” another voice cracked. “Gonna yell at us to get off his lawn.”

Mako pushed aside stalks and was met with three looks – one unsure, one petrified, and one stupidly defiant. The third one stood up, everything about their body language hostile, and started to say something. They were rudely interrupted by Jamison pouncing out of the stalks, the lens of his mask blaring as he let out an unearthly cackle.

It sent chills even down Mako’s spine as Jamison tackled the kid, metal fingers crooked around their neck.

Their friends screamed and scattered, leaving piles of fireworks, both used and unused, scattered on the ground. “Jamison,” Mako said after a moment, stepping forward. Jamison’s fingers tensed more, earning a choked sound from the kid below him. “Jamison!”

Whatever he’d felt when Jamison first came out of the stalks was replaced with a dread that swiftly turned into the cold fight-or-flight he was used to. He reached out and gripped Jamison’s free arm to forcefully pull him away. Jamison snarled, flailing against Mako’s grip, as the kid rolled away to his feet and gave them a look. “You’re fucking psycho!” they shrieked before disappearing into the dark.

Jamison jerked forward after them, kept trying to worm free of Mako’s grip, but he just held tight. “Jamison, _enough_.” Eventually the scarecrow wore himself out and went slack in Mako’s grip, panting masked by the cloth of his mask. “What the fuck was that about?”

Jamison tensed, then twisted around to look at him. His shoulders rose and sagged with each breath. “What – oh. Fuck. Sorry.”

Mako hesitantly let him go, watching him shamble forward to pick up one of the fireworks that hadn’t been lit yet. “Jamison.”

“I remembered.” Jamison drummed his fingers on the firework and set it down. “There was an explosion that night, I think. I think I – I was with some blokes. They beat the hell outta me, sliced me up then strung me up on that post and left me to die.”

“What the fuck,” Mako repeated.

“Think the fireworks set it off. I just… I didn’t see kids just now.”

Mako watched him for a moment, then stepped forward to put a hand on Jamison’s shoulder. “C’mon. Back inside.”

“Right. It’s gettin’ late, isn’t it? You should sleep. I’ll make sure them folks won’t come back.”

“They won’t. Come.”

They carefully made their way back to the house, and Jamison stopped in the living room, pulling off his mask just in time to show an expression of visible surprise when Mako gestured for him to follow him up the stairs. “Maybe you should try sleeping in an actual bed for once.”

Jamison hesitated at the bottom of the stairs at that. “I don’t –“

“This isn’t up for debate, Jamie.” He didn’t turn to watch Jamison follow him, instead heading into his room to pull off his shirt and jeans. “If you were… strung up… why’d you have a grave?”

“Someone must’ve come back to bury me?” Jamison shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched. “So…”

Mako sat on the edge of the bed with a grunt and patted the side behind him. “Take that stuff off. I don’t want dirt on my sheets.”

“Best I sleep on the floor then.” Jamison tittered, stopping when Mako gave him a tired, stern look and hesitantly pulling off the few clothes he had. Mako found himself very, very grateful that he’d been left his underwear. “I don’t get it, though,” he said, crawling under the covers and immediately curling up. “Why’re ya – y’don’t gotta be _this_ nice t’ me.”

Mako loosed his hair from the ponytail it was in and combed his fingers through it before he laid his head down on the pillows. “My… my daughter, when she got bad dreams. Sleepin’ in my bed always made her feel better.”

Jamison hummed quietly in awe. “You’ve got a daughter?”

Mako turned off the light and closed his eyes. “ _Had_.”

“Oh.” Jamison paused, then said again, with a newfound, saddened realization, “Oh.”

Mako grunted in affirmation, and then they were silent. The feeling of someone else just within reach was odd, almost alien to him. He finally drifted off when Jamison decided not to be shy anymore and pressed closer to him with a strange, contended chitter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more vague context about Mako's past, and Jamison is no longer a secret!

He woke up to Jamison’s arms wrapped fiercely around his bicep, like a child clutching a stuffed animal. He carefully wrestled his arm free – it seemed that sleeping in an actual bed didn’t stop Jamison from becoming nothing more than a human statue during daylight hours, as it took quite some effort – and got dressed for work.

But he was distracted. He had a game plan today, one that required him getting to the library as soon as possible before Jamison woke up. Fortunately, the work seemed to flash before his eyes – he was certain he’d be getting trash talked by the others later that night for his lack of focus, but he didn’t care.

The library was foreign territory to him; he felt awkward lumbering through the aisles of books towards the computers in the back with his sweat-stained shirt and dust-covered hands. It was a small enough town that he figured this wouldn’t take too long. The chair creaked under his weight, earning a small frown from him. He had to type carefully; his fingers were too big for the keys.

‘tillsoll crime in ten years’

He came up with some weird crime data report site. Lots of auto theft (he made a note to make sure his bike was secure when he got home) and robberies, nothing specific. He frowned and tried the search again, going down to five years. Still nothing he was looking for. With a quiet huff of a sigh, he tried instead, ‘tillsoll farm fire’. Something about Jamison’s recollection about fireworks gave him the idea.

Sure enough, there were a few news articles from a few years ago. One mentioned people hearing a commotion from the cornfield by his farm, lots of shouting and what one witness claimed to be gunfire. The second article mentioned police investigating and finding a lot of blood and a duffle bag filled with inactive explosives.

“Doing some light reading?”

Mako jerked to look behind him. Ana was hovering over his shoulder, holding a disposable cup with an eyebrow raised. He coughed and clicked out of the article, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just wanna get a feel for my house’s history.”

“The _criminal_ history?” Ana gestured for him to follow her and wandered to a sitting area nearby. Mako closed out of the browser and logged out before following. “I’ve been worried about you, Mako.”

“There’s been a lot of cleanup to do at home.”

“You know you can always ask for help.”

Mako grunted quietly. “It’s all pretty much done now. Just got a few more things to do –“

“Mako. I know you’d tell me if you were getting back into –“ The train of thought broke off as someone shuffled past to grab a book off the shelf. Ana waited until they were alone again before finishing, “Trouble. You’ve been doing so well.”

“I’m not.” Mako narrowed his eyes. “I’m fine, Ana.”

Ana paused for a second, then sighed and took a drink. “I’m sorry. I just worry about you.”

“It’s okay.” Mako paused, then bowed his head towards her. “I appreciate it.”

“With Fareeha on tour I have to have _someone_ to coddle.” Her lips twisted up in a little smirk and she stood. “You should do something with Halloween coming up. I know Hana is about to explode with how ready she is to ask if you want to have a party.”

Mako snorted quietly. “Why my house?”

“Cornfield in the middle of nowhere. Plus, you have space.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Ana chuckled and stood, taking another drink from her cup. “Hana won’t give you much time. She was going to text you when I left.”

Sure enough, when Mako climbed into his truck and checked his phone, there were a few messages asking if he’d want, quote, ‘a little get-together’ on Halloween. He fully expected she meant “a crowd of 30 people and the living room will be converted into a rave”.

He had to stop and get gas for his truck, and was surprised that it was already getting dark. “Here comes the winter,” the attendant chirped with a smile as she handed him his receipt. It was mildly worrying. Did that mean Jamison would be waking up earlier? The thought didn’t leave his mind as he urged onwards to the farm.

A black and green moped was in the driveway – he had just enough time to recognize it was Lucio’s before he heard the yelling.

The front door was open, Lucio shouldering a closet door while something bumped and hissed and clawed at the other side. “Mako!” he shouted, eyes wide in terror as a particularly hard push against the door nearly made him stumble.

“Lucio –“

“Man, there’s something – this thing is fucked up!”

Mako stepped forward and pushed firmly on the door, and it stopped bouncing as much. “Back up.” Lucio looked at the door, then back up at him before nodding, panting slightly from exertion.

Mako waited, listening for the clawing and muffled cursing before swinging the door open just as the thing inside tried to bash it open. And none other than Jamison tumbled to the ground with a yelp. Lucio yelled at the same time, reaching for a vase. “Lucio!” Mako said sharply, holding up a hand to him before looking down. “Jamie, what the fuck happened?”

“Jamie?!”

Jamison turned around, glancing at Mako for a moment before looking at Lucio, who gripped the vase tighter. “This guy just waltzed in! Thought he was gonna – I dunno, do _somethin’_!”

“Mako, what the hell is going on? What _is_ that?!”

“That’s Jamison,” Mako said simply, reaching down to snap his fingers and get Jamison’s attention before helping him up. “Jamison, this is Lucio – a friend.”

“Friend,” Jamison repeated, almost doubtfully, giving Lucio a glance-over. Lucio swallowed visibly, looking between Mako and Jamison with confusion.

“Lucio, put the vase down and I’ll explain. Jamison’s harmless.”

“Its eyes are glowing!”

Mako paused for a second. “…I don’t have an explanation for that. What’re you doing here?”

“I was just checking up on you, man. Haven’t seen you by the shop lately. The front door was unlocked, so – but then this _thing_ just came out of _nowhere_ –”

“Put down the vase and I’ll… try to explain.”

To his credit, Lucio did put down the vase. He just didn’t let it go, keeping it planted on the side table by the couch. Mako stood on the other end of the coffee table with his hand firmly on Jamison’s shoulder to keep him from moving too much and took a deep breath.

“Jamison… Jamie’s in a bit of trouble. I’m just trying to help him out.”

“What kinda trouble?”

“The ‘died and got cursed to be a scarecrow’ kind,” Jamie piped in, earning a light cuff to the back of the head.

“What.”

“I know how it sounds, but –“

“But you’re just gonna straight-up tell me you’ve got an undead scarecrow monster living with you?”

Mako narrowed his eyes. “He’s not a monster.”

“I’d argue against that,” Jamie muttered. Lucio heard that and narrowed his eyes, fingers tightening around the vase.

“Relax,” Mako said sharply. “He – we’re trying to figure out how to reverse it.”

Lucio looked between the two of them, then set the vase down and raised his hands before standing up. “I’m out.”

“Lucio –“

“Whatever kinda prank this is, it isn’t funny – _filho da puta_!” Lucio said, stumbling back as Jamison slipped in front of the door.

“He’s tellin’ ya the truth. He trusts ya,” Jamie said quietly. Any sense of humor was gone; even Mako was surprised at how much more eloquent the change in tone made him sound. “At least hear ‘im out, yeah?”

Lucio swallowed, then looked back at Mako. Mako just looked between the two of them. Finally, Lucio sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Okay. Cursed, undead scarecrow. _Assuming_ you’re not pulling my leg, how do you know if it _can_ be reversed?”

“This lady at the café mentioned it. She said it’s up to him to end it. I’m just trying to help.”

“Lady at the café?” Lucio blinked, looking at Mako for a second with a furrowed brow. “Wait, is that why you were chatting up Angela?”

“Yeah. Who is she?”

“Angela Ziegler. She’s a nurse at the hospital a few miles out, comes by for coffee sometimes. Why would she know about curses or whatever?”

Mako’s shoulders sagged a bit. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

Lucio shook his head. “Sorry. She’s nice, tips well and chats us up, but she doesn’t talk much about herself.”

“We’ve got a name!” Jamie chirped, his smile returning as he looked to Mako. “More than we had five seconds ago!”

Mako nodded. “Thanks, Lucio.”

“No problem. If you want, I could have her call you. She usually comes by around three every day.”

“That’d be good.”

Lucio nodded, then paused, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So, uh… you get Hana’s text about Halloween?”

“Yeah.”

“Doubt that’s happening, huh?”

Mako pursed his lips in thought, looking at Jamison. The scarecrow had tilted his head in curiosity. “Actually… I think it’d be a good idea.”

“What?”

“You’re the first person besides me that Jamie’s met in a long time. Figure Halloween, he’d fit into a crowd.”

“You’re gonna bring people here?” Jamie fidgeted his hands, tapping his fingers together. “Y’sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not? Besides, Ana’s been getting on my case about socializing.”

Lucio looked between the two of them, his posture relaxing the longer Jamie didn’t make any moves. “Yeah. You could pass it off as a pretty nasty costume.”

“These are me clothes!” Jamison protested.

“I didn’t mean it – never mind.” Lucio smiled in apology. “So it’s on, then?”

Mako contemplated it a moment longer before nodding. “Yeah. I’ll let her know. Worst that happens is people get a good scare.”

“Right. Just hope it’s not too traumatizing. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Night.”

Jamie stepped away from the door and opened it for Lucio, giving him a little wave goodbye. Lucio returned it with a somewhat uncomfortable smile before leaving.

“Guess that means we’re gonna have to decorate,” Mako muttered, more to himself than Jamie as he surveyed the living room. “And glue down the breakables.”

“Why?”

“They’re kids. They get drunk and break stuff.” He reached into his pocket to write and send the text to Hana and sighed at the over-excited emojis he received in return. He was already regretting this decision.


	9. Chapter 9

He had the next day off, so he took the time to meet Hana at the specialty Halloween store, the one that popped up at the beginning of the month and would be gone by the time everyone woke up on November 1st. He spent most of the time grabbing stuff she couldn’t reach and grunting in response to her chatter. It wasn’t annoying, by any means; it was nice to have be around someone younger than him, someone that was _normal_.

While they were out, he got a text from an unknown number. The message said, ‘This is Angela. Lucio gave me this number. I can’t tell you about Jamison, but I might have other information you’d be interested in. Or if you just want to talk, feel free to message me.’

It was odd to see such proper grammar; not even Ana texted that formally. But he saved the number and set it aside while Hana guided him to the cashier.

Jamison sat on the couch, watching Mako set up tacky fake cobwebs and plastic spiders with wide eyes, like a cat wondering what the hell its human was doing. Eventually he got up to help with the decoration, and the smile on his face was wide and genuinely overjoyed. The sight gave Mako a nice warm feeling.

He left a spare key under the welcome mat as he left for work the next day. Lucio was supposed to set up his stereos for the party, and agreed only after being thoroughly convinced Jamison was inactive during the day.

As he sat in the café, getting himself a late lunch before heading home, he texted Angela, asking if she could answer some questions about the property and if she’d mind coming over to do so. It wasn’t until he pulled into the driveway that he got the text back that said yes.

With daylight fading earlier, Mako’s hypothesis turned out to be true; Jamison was, in fact, waking up earlier. He was already shuffling around the kitchen eating slices of processed cheese when Mako opened the front door. “That doctor lady’s coming over?”

“Yeah,” Mako said as he put the kettle on for tea. “I asked her to tell me about the house – the land. What makes it special.”

“Just guessin’ she won’t answer me if I ask her what the hell happened to me.”

“Probably not.” Mako drummed his fingers on the counter in thought. “I don’t think it’s because she doesn’t want to. I think she can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I might ask.”

“If you don’t, I will.” It wasn’t a threat, just a statement as Jamison balled up the plastic in his hands.

The doorbell rang just as Mako started steeping the tea in the water. Angela was dressed nicely, a simple flower-pattern skirt and a white blouse – she must have just come from the hospital. “Come in,” Mako said, opening the door for her.

“Thank you.” She hesitated for only a second before stepping inside, taking a moment to look around. A smile played her lips at the blatant Halloween decoration. “Getting festive, I see. That’s a good thing,” she reassured once she saw Mako’s somewhat embarrassed expression. “It’s always good to find time to step back and enjoy life.”

“When ya can, anyway.” Jamie was in the doorway, peering at her suspiciously.

Angela turned to look at him and smiled after a moment. “Jamison. How strange it is to meet you in person. You’ve taken the mask off, I see.”

“Thank him.” Jamie nodded at Mako.

“I was making tea.” Mako changed the subject, offering Angela a seat in the living room. “If you wanted any.”

“Please.” She took up his offer, sitting demurely with her knees together and her hands crossed on her lap. Jamie was still staring at her, and Mako could hear her speak as he poured the tea into cups. “I understand you’re suspicious of me. I don’t blame you. I would too. Believe me, if I could answer all of your questions –”

“Why can’t you?” Jamie interrupted.

Mako re-entered the room, setting a cup on the table in front of Angela. She took it with a gracious nod and waited for him to sit before sighing. “I’m hesitant to explain – you’ve taken the idea of a sentient scarecrow well enough, but there’s only so far you can stretch your sense of belief.”

“Try me.” Mako took a sip of tea and nodded at Jamie to take a seat. He begrudgingly obeyed, sitting on the floor next to Mako’s chair.

“Well. Magic runs in my family. It was actually my great-grandmother that cursed this piece of land for a solid payment from a jealous, rival family many years ago.” Angela took a sip of tea, enjoying it for a moment before continuing. “And magic has a price. If I were to break a curse made by my own bloodline, I would be severely punished. You see?”

“So it’s savin’ your own skin,” Jamie accused, rising only to be stopped by Mako’s hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t blame you for seeing it that way,” Angela confessed, lowering her cup. “I’m sorry, but it could very well mean death for me.”

“I see.” Mako took a drink of his own tea, noting the way Jamie crossed his arms over his chest and hunched over. He was pouting, like a child. “What is this curse, exactly?”

“I don’t remember the exact wording, but it only afflicts any sentient beings that die on the property. Usually they’re forced into the bodies of animals until they die again, but… I must admit, your case is unusual, Jamison.”

“I noticed,” Jamie said drily.

“The nature of your death must have…” Angela trailed off, shaking her head. “Well, it does nothing to dwell on it now.”

“If it’s up to us to break it,” Mako said after a second of silence. “Is there anything you can tell us about how to start?”

“You already have.” Angela smiled at the two of them, taking another drink. “The more Jamison – the more _you_ remember, the closer you’ll get. The curse is designed to make you reflect on your life, the choices you’ve made. I must warn you, things will get more painful as you go.”

“But if I remember _everything_ …?”

Angela shrugged, finishing her drink before responding. “I don’t know. Again, usually people with this curse are animals, and no one knows what happens when they remember. You could just become a normal person, free to a second chance.”

An unsaid ‘but’ lingered in the air for a long minute. “Or I could die for good?” Jamison asked in the way that said he already knew the answer.

“Perhaps.”

Mako and Angela finished the rest of their tea in silence, and Mako set his cup aside to nod at her. “Thank you. At least we know what to expect now.”

“I wish I could help you more, I really do. I didn’t expect having someone take interest in your case would change you so much, Jamison.” Angela stood, smoothing out her skirt. “I should be leaving.”

“Of course.” Mako held the door open for her and nodded as she stepped outside. “There’s gonna be a party here next week. Feel free to come.”

Angela turned to laugh at that over her shoulder. “Halloween is usually a busy night at the hospital, but perhaps I might.” Her smile lingered at him for a moment before she turned and headed back to her car, a little white compact thing that looked like it had never seen foul weather of any kind.

“Magic,” Jamie scoffed. He’d pulled himself off the floor and into Mako’s chair, legs dangling over one of the arms.

“You’re literally a scarecrow.”

“That’s different.”

Mako rolled his eyes and set out to make dinner, crossing the day off on the calendar. On October 31st, underneath the reminder of the party, was a scribbled smiley face with a dead eye.


	10. Chapter 10

On October 31st, Hana came over early to make sure everything was set up, and Mako kept praying she wouldn’t peek upstairs to see the creature sleeping in his bed, or the shopping list of furniture he needed to fill out the spare room. In the off-chance Jamison broke the curse and turned to normal, he couldn’t very well keep sleeping in Mako’s bed.

Fortunately, she only went as far as to check the bathroom to put up some stickers on the mirror and to decorate Mako’s bedroom door with caution tape and a ‘keep out’ sign, at his insistence.

“What’s your costume, Mako?” she asked lightly while she pressed a witch cookie cutter into a sheet of cookie dough. She was wearing a full-body rabbit kigurumi.

“Uh.” He hadn’t even thought about dressing up. Frankly, he was planning to let the kids wreak havoc on the downstairs while he holed himself up in his room with a book.

“Oh my god.”

“I’ll find something.”

“I hope so! You need to get into the spirit!” Hana chided him, sticking the cookies in the oven. “I have some cat ears back home, I think.”

“No.” Mako snorted at the thought.

Lucio showed up half an hour before the party was set to start, a weird frog-like helmet under his arm. “Like a Skrillex thing, y’know?”

Mako nodded. He had no idea who Skrillex was. He excused himself under the guise of trying to scrounge up something resembling a costume and found Jamie tossing the sheets of his bed about as he woke.

Jamie started to say something, but stopped, tilting his head much like a dog hearing an unfamiliar sound. “Oh. Folks’re here already?”

“Yeah. Got your mask?”

“Yuh-huh.” Jamie scrounged about for it while Mako pawed through his clothes. He could go old-school and wear his old leathers, he guessed – but the idea left his head when he uncovered the box. He pulled it out tentatively, staring at the unassuming wooden box with a simple padlock on it.

“What’s in there?” Jamie was trying to peer over, then under, his shoulder, and Mako shoved the box back hurriedly.

“Nothing.”

“Got it under lock and key and everything –”

“It’s nothing,” Mako said sharply, shutting the closet door a little harder than he meant to.

People had already arrived by the time they stepped downstairs. Something about wearing his old biker clothes almost made him feel young again, and he clenched his fists testingly. Jamie trailed behind him, his body language uncertain. Ana was in the kitchen talking to Hana when they entered, and Mako tensed at the slight disapproval in her eyes.

“Been a long time since you’ve worn those,” she said, her voice neutral.

“Forgot to get a costume.” Mako shrugged and grabbed a cookie.

“Whoa! Neat costume!” Hana cried, eyes wide at the sight of Jamie. Jamie glanced over his shoulder, then looked back.

“Oh – y’mean me?”

“Yeah! That’s so cool.” Hana got closer, poking at the scars on his arms and examining his mask. Mako stood by, ready to jump in; Jamie looked so uncomfortable, just by the light shaking of his hands, but Hana pulled back with a wide smile soon enough. “You must’ve spent months on this!”

“Uh –”

“Yeah.” Mako chimed in, putting a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Had to help him out with it a few times.”

“I’m Hana.” She stuck out a hand, and Jamie took it hesitantly. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“Nah, I… don’t get out much.” Jamie giggled nervously. “M’ Jamie.”

“He’s a friend,” Mako said, dropping his hand back down to his side. “From back home.”

“Nice to meet you.” Ana’s tone had warmed up a bit; maybe she could see he was uncomfortable, too. Mako wouldn’t put it past her. “I’m Ana. Strange that Mako’s never mentioned you.”

“We, uh, don’t get to see each other much,” Jamie replied, his voice growing a little more confident in the lie, glancing over to catch Mako’s approval. “First time in years!”

“I’m gonna go greet everyone.” Hana grabbed the plate of cookies, playfully nudging Mako’s arm as he stole another one. “Can you help me get all this stuff set up?”

“Sure.” He grabbed trays of food, mostly sweets with some finger sandwiches and dips thrown in, and carried them out into the living room.

Lucio was doing what he did best, rocking to the beat of the music he was playing with the massive frog head giving him a surreal look in the dark lighting. Jamie trailed behind Mako, sticking close.

Hana set the cookies down and turned to talk to someone who had recognized her, and then she was gone, leaving Mako in a sea of _teenagers_.

To be fair, it was a well-behaved crowd. He wasn’t serving alcohol tonight, of course, but he wouldn’t doubt someone snuck some in. Quite a few people gave him an obligatory nod and thank-you for hosting the party, but most were fascinated by Jamie. “Wow, those stitches feel so real,” a girl gasped after her friends dared her to touch him. “Also you’re, like, ripped. Wow.”

Jamie mostly just gave them sincere, if not confused, thanks and the occasional high-pitched giggle. At some point, he curled his arm around Mako’s and yelled, “I need some air!”

Mako nodded and watched him go before turning his attention to the music. Lucio was quite the talented DJ; something about his music just put him at ease. But it wasn’t until a few dozen snacks and some conversation later that he realized the crowd was dying down. And Jamie was nowhere to be seen.

“Hana, have you seen Jamie?” Mako asked once he’d found her sitting on the couch with a small group of people surrounding her as she played a handheld game.

Without even looking up, she shrugged. “We talked for a bit outside, but I think he went upstairs? Said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“Thanks.”

Jamie was on his bed. He was sitting on the edge, staring at the open window. “It’s a lot to take in,” he confessed when he heard the door open and then close again. “S’weird seein’ people not be afraid of me.”

“Pretty sure a couple of those girls wanted your phone number.” Mako sat down next to him, rolling his shoulders.

“Someone asked me what my last name was. Just when I was about to say I didn’t remember… guess what popped into my head?” Jamie held up two fingers to his temple. “Fawkes. My name was – is Jamison Fawkes.”

Mako paused, slightly awed by this information. Yet another thing for them to go on. “And you didn’t… it didn’t hurt to remember?”

“No. Maybe it was just such a little thing…” Jamie shrugged.

“Jamison Fawkes,” Mako mused. “Australian, likes boba tea.”

“Startin’ to form a picture.” Jamie smiled up at him and rested his head on Mako’s arm, nudging into it slightly. Mako rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around him. “Not necessarily a pretty one.”

“Are you gonna come back down?”

“I dunno. There still a lotta people?”

“They’re clearing out.” Jamie thought on that for a moment, then shook his head. “Ok. I’m gonna tell Hana we’re bugging out for the night.” Mako let him go and stood to head downstairs once more.

“Oh! Okay,” Lucio said, nodding. Hana had been fifteen levels deep into some randomly-generated dungeon crawler, so Mako had to have the message passed on. “I think it’s windin’ down to a close anyway.”

“If you both want to crash here tonight, I can grab some blankets.”

“Nah, Ana was gonna give us a ride home. But thanks. We’ll try and clean up a bit, too.”

Mako thanked him and went back upstairs. He opened the door to his room to see Jamie kneeling in front of the closet with the lockbox in hand. Jamie immediately dropped it and crawled back against the bed once Mako entered. “I’m sorry. I got curious.”

“Jamie,” Mako said, feeling himself drop down into anger. But he stifled it, let his shoulders drop as he leaned down and picked up the lockbox.

“You’re learnin’ so much about me,” Jamie muttered, eyes downcast. “But I don’t know a lot about you, mate.”

Mako sighed and sat back down on the bed by Jamie, contemplating for a moment before he decided. He reached into the end table to fish out a key. “You wanna know what’s in here so bad?” Before Jamie could reply, Mako unlocked it and dropped it down at Jamie’s side.

Jamie paused before reaching for it almost hesitantly, like he thought Mako might snap at him for trying. When he didn’t, he pulled it into his lap and slowly opened the lid.

Mako closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look. He’d promised years ago, never again. “It’s a mask?” Jamie said, confused. Mako could hear the rub of Jamie lifting the mask from the box.

“A long time ago,” Mako said. “I did some bad things. I wore that while doing ‘em.”

“What kinda bad things?”

“ _Bad_ bad. I hurt people. I went by a different name then. When I came here, I swore I’d never touch that thing again.”

“Why’d you keep it?”

“As a reminder.”

He heard Jamie drop the mask back into the box. “What was your name? Back then?”

Mako opened his eyes and looked the mask in its dark, empty eyes and taking in the black material, stitched up in the front to give the illusion of a snout. “Roadhog.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Side-plot bit me. Jamie's not the only one with a troubled past.

Mako woke up the next morning to a banging on his front door.

True to their words, Hana and Lucio had gotten pretty much everything cleaned up from the night before except for some stray cobwebs and decorations. The banging persisted until Mako opened it. Ana slipped inside the house the second there was room. “Mako, we need to talk.”

“Ana, what –”

“Now, I could go off on you for the outfit last night, the ‘friend’ from back home, and the million reasons I’m concerned, but right now we have a bigger problem.”

“Ana, what is going on?” Mako tried again.

Ana turned to face him, hands clasped behind her back. “Camille came into the coffee shop today.”

Mako’s mouth went dry, and he had to sit down while he took that information in. Camille. That was a name he’d spent many nights praying he’d never hear again. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I didn’t let on you were here.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. She knew you came out this way. I just didn’t expect her to be so persistent.”

 “Hana and Lucio –”

“I already told them to say they didn’t know you if she asked.”

Mako breathed out. “Good.”

“If she finds you, Mako,” Ana said, sitting down across from him. “It won’t be pretty. She’s out for blood.”

“I know.” Mako forced his fingers to loosen around the armrest of his couch. “Get Hana and Lucio here as soon as you can. I… I should warn them.”

“Okay. Are you leaving the house today?”

“No. I was gonna just do some cleaning.”

“Good. Close the blinds. Maybe put your bike in the barn, it’s kind of a giveaway.” Ana stood and leaned down to hug Mako’s shoulders. “It’ll be alright.”

He couldn’t possibly imagine how it would be. As soon as Ana left, he made sure to carefully wheel his bike into the barn where it wouldn’t be easy to find, then closed all the windows and blinds.

He managed to force himself to get the living room more presentable and make dinner by the time Ana came back with the kids in tow, coming through the back door. “Mako, what’s going on? Ana said it’s important.”

“Yeah. Sit down.” Once they were all seated, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You should know. I was… involved with some bad people before I moved here. You could basically call it a gang.”

“Get out!” Hana gasped, but Ana hushed her.

“The Australian Liberation Front. At first, we were just an organization protesting unlawful possession of land by the government, but… things got bad.”

“Yeah, the A.L.F. I think we read about them in class,” Lucio said, eyes widening. “They’re not just a gang, Mako! They’re a terrorist group, aren’t they?”

“At this point, pretty much. I was with ‘em in the beginning, stayed through until it got… bad. It was messy.” Mako sat up with a deep breath. “I left, people got hurt. Their leader’s been after me since.”

“That lady in the café?” Hana turned to Ana, worry etched on her face at the nod she got in return.

“We need to keep this quiet,” Ana said, rubbing her forehead in thought. “If anyone asks, Mako Rutledge doesn’t exist here. Understand?”

“Yeah. We’ll pass the message on.”

“Worst case scenario, I skip town.” Mako frowned at the thought. “Camille’s dangerous. She’ll hurt you to get a reaction from me, or if it’ll make you talk.”

“I’d like to see her try!” Hana said, eyes narrowed in offense at the very thought.

“This is not a time to be a hero,” Ana told her gently. “Camille’s killed for less. Luckily, Mako and I have planned for this.”

It was true. Multiple contingency plans if Camille ever found him. Mako just never thought they’d have to use one. “I’m gonna call into work, see if I can get a doctor to vouch for me.” He made a mental note to ask Angela for a favor. “Should have enough food for a week or so. She should be gone by then.”

“Is there any way we’ll be able to check up on you? Just in case?”

“Yeah. Keep it to texts, only call if it’s an emergency or if you know you won’t be overheard. She probably came alone but you never know.”

Ana nodded to him. “You’ve dodged her before. This time will be no different.”

Mako grunted in affirmation. Nothing different except for the scarecrow he was taking care of, he added to himself.

They left, but only after Hana gave him a hug that lasted way too long – “To keep you safe!” she claimed, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

Once they were gone, Mako was stifled by the silence. He forced himself to make tea and turn on the television, but the sound of something moving upstairs scared him. It was only when he heard the ‘thump-clack’ that he realized it was Jamie.

“Hey, Mako,” Jamie chirped as he made his way downstairs. “No work today?”

“No. Want some tea? It’s on the stove.”

“Aces.” Jamie was humming something as he traversed into the kitchen. His attitude shifted the second he sat down, noticing the tension in Mako’s body. “What’s goin’ on?”

Mako grabbed the remote and turned off the television. “We should talk.”

“Are you breakin’ up with me?”

Mako looked up. “What?” Jamie had on a lopsided grin at his own joke, giggling at Mako’s reaction. Mako shook his head and huffed out a chuckle. “Funny.”

“Alright – serious face.” Jamie drew a hand over his face, and the grin was magically gone.

“I told you I used to do… bad things. There was someone up top that told me where and when to do them. I managed to get away from that, but she… didn’t like that. She’s here in town.”

“Want me to kick ‘er arse?”

“No,” Mako said sharply, shaking his head. “No, she can’t know I’m here. If she does, it’ll get ugly, fast.” He took a deep breath, looking back down. It felt terrible to do this. “I know breaking the curse is important to you, but…”

Jamie sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Say no more. Just lemme know if I can help. You’ve done a lot for me, mate, it’s about time I returned the favor.”

Mako looked back up and watched Jamie for a second before nodding, fingers curling around his tea mug contemplatively. “Thank you. Neither of us are going to be able to leave the house for a while. In the meantime, we’re gonna have to make it look like the place is still abandoned.”

Jamie took a sip of his tea. “Maybe I should get back to patrolling at night.”

“Might be a good idea, if you don’t mind. Where’ll you sleep in the day, though?”

“I can… go back to the barn.” Jamie wrinkled his nose at the thought. “Or just sneak through the back door before sunrise.”

“Okay. Just remember to –” Mako stopped at the faint sound of gravel crunching under tires coming from outside and hushed Jamie, clicking the lamp off. In the darkness, he could see Jamie’s glowing eyes narrowing and then moving lower. They both settled on the floor and listened as an engine died and a car door slammed shut.

Mako’s phone started to ring from the coffee table, and Jamie quickly snatched it up and answered it after a moment of trying to figure out how.

“Hi, whoever this – it’s Jamie – yeah from the party, listen – we know, Hana, they’re right outside. Sure thing.”

He hung up and slid the phone over to Mako, who put it on silent. Then they waited. Footsteps tapped on the front porch, and Mako quickly realized that if there were any gaps in the curtains, whoever was outside would probably see Jamie’s eyes. He quickly whispered, “Close your eyes.”

The glowing orange dots disappeared. For what felt like eternity, they laid there, and Mako could have almost forgotten Jamie was even there, for all he heard was his own heartbeat and breathing. Eventually, the footsteps receded, and the car engine started again before pulling away.

Mako let out a deep breath, resting his forehead on the carpet below before standing once again. He took his phone and re-dialed Hana, gesturing for Jamie to stand back up and make sure whoever was outside was really gone.

Hana picked up on the first ring. “Oh my god, Mako, are you okay?”

“We’re fine. Just had a night-time visitor.”

“I’m sorry, I tried to warn you. My co-worker just texted me saying some lady was asking about your house.”

“Thanks, Hana. I don’t think she caught us.”

“Why’d Jamie answer your phone? Is he still there?”

“Yeah, he’s, uh… visiting. Listen, my phone’s going to be on vibrate the rest of the night, let me know if you hear anything else.”

“Sure thing. Be safe.”

“All clear,” Jamie said from the kitchen, hobbling back into the living room. “I’ll head outside, make sure no one’s lingerin’.”

“Okay. If you see anything, just… throw a pebble at my window or something.”

Jamie nodded and unlatched the back door, slipping outside. Mako re-locked the door behind him and headed upstairs, making sure to grab his shotgun from under the cupboard.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go.

Mako woke up after a night of pebble-free slumber. The first thing he did was check outside, and sure enough, Jamison was on the post, looking just like an ordinary scarecrow from a distance.

The first thing he did was call Angela. “I need to ask a favor from you.”

“Is this about Jamison?”

“No. It’s about me for once. I need a notice faxed to my overseer saying I can’t work for the few days, a week at most.”

“Can I ask why? Are you ill?”

“Not exactly.” Mako took a deep breath and gave Angela a quick review of his situation.

“I see. I’ll see what I can do. Send me your overseer’s number.”

“Thank you, Angela.” Mako hung up and texted the number to her, then shuffled downstairs to make himself lunch. He got a text from Ana at around two mentioning she’d passed by on her way home and saw a bike parked in the brush, new but seemingly abandoned, and he doubled-checked that the blinds were closed.

“This is ridiculous,” he said to Ana on the phone.

“This is survival, Mako. She’ll tear you apart.”

“Not if I get to her first.”

“Mako,” Ana said sharply before he could even finish his sentence. “You’re better than that.”

Mako sighed, pulling a hand through his hair. “You’re right. But I’m better than hiding. I need to end this.”

“How?”

Mako looked back out to Jamie, hanging on the post, and an idea started to form. “Maybe I can just scare her off. I’ll call you back.”

He waited until dusk, when Jamie would wake up, and flashed a sign through the window for him to come back inside. “I have an idea on how to get rid of my problem.”

Jamie cocked his head to the side. “Yeah? And… oh! You want me to help!”

“Yeah.”

Jamie thought on it for a second, eyebrows furrowing then raising. “I’m game. So what’s the plan?”

“Easy. I lose her in the corn field, and you… do what you do best. Mask and all. But I want to make one thing clear, Jamie.” Jamie’s expression fell into puzzlement as Mako held up a finger. “The goal’s to scare her off. Not kill her. I’m not saying you’re capable of that –”

“Mate, I think we both know I am.” Jamie said it quietly, with a hint of darkness in his voice. Mako nodded solemnly after a moment. “But sounds easy enough. She scare easily?”

“No. But I doubt she’s ever been face-to-face with a living scarecrow.” Mako glanced out the window at the sound of a passing car. False alarm. “Get out there. You’ll know when we start.”

“Gotcha.” Jamie jumped up slightly to hug Mako around the neck (a bit tightly, Mako thought as he rubbed his neck afterwards) before scampering off upstairs. He came back down, pulling his mask on, and gave Mako a thumbs up before disappearing into the darkness outside.

Mako, meanwhile, poured himself some whiskey. The good stuff, the kind that had been made before he was even old enough to drink. He pulled a chair onto the porch and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. There were no lights, but he couldn’t mistake the sound of gravel crunching under tires. He watched the car pull up, an older beater with a patchy paint job and a symbol on the hood, and simply took a drink.

“Mako,” a voice said as a car door clicked open. There she was. Just about his age, but barely looking it in that weird kind of bogan way. Bottle-blonde hair, ratty bandana, tattoos – she hadn’t changed a bit. “There you are, mate. You’ve got no idea what kinda trouble I’ve had trackin’ ya down.”

Mako took another drink of whiskey. “’Cause your tracking skills are shit.”

Camille crossed her arms, her mouth twisted in that kind of cruel smile that seemed deceptively sweet. “I liked you better when you didn’t talk, ‘Hog.” Mako set his drink down and stood, stepping off the balcony. He glanced out into the cornfield – Jamie was on the post. Camille noticed and followed his gaze, snorting. “You’ve got the fuckin’ life out here, don’t’cha?”

“It works. Unlike whatever it is you’ve got going on here.”

Camille stepped back to the car and pulled out a shotgun from the front seat. Pump-action, Mako noticed; it looked worn, well-used. He bet that was left over from when he left. “It’s the shitty thing about the past, mate; it follows ya. Now, ya gonna make this nice and easy?”

Mako slid his hands into his pockets and fished around. His fingers brushed against the inhaler in his pocket; he might stand a chance, assuming everything he knew about her was true. “What do you think?”

One Mississippi. Her eyes narrowed, fingers curling on the barrel of the shotgun. Two Mississippi. Mako took a deep breath. Three Mississippi - he bolted sideways into the corn stalks just as she raised the shotgun to fire.

“Mako!” She hollered behind him. He couldn’t hear if she’d started to follow; he didn’t have to. She was always slow to the draw, but quick to recover. She was following. “Get back here, you goddamn mongrel!”

Mako kept running. It was hard to see, but if he’d judged the angle right – his slowed to a stop as the clearing appeared, and with it, Jamie. He took only a second to pat Jamie’s knee. “She’s coming. Wait until she’s not looking, then go.”

He saw just the barest glimmer of orange glow and took that as an affirmative. Then, he moved back into the stalks to watch.

Camille burst into the clearing seconds after Mako found his hiding place, and he fished out his inhaler, trying to use it as quietly as possible. His lungs burned just from the short distance he’d sprinted. He watched her notice Jamie, stare at him for a second, then scoff and mutter something about it being stupid before starting to move towards the perimeter of the clearing.

He hadn’t been wrong about her lack of tracking skills, and he had the darkness on his side, but she also knew him and he knew she’d catch on eventually. He held his breath as Jamie slowly looked to her and knocked on the post before going still again.

Camille spun around and paused at the fact the thing on the post was now looking right at her. “What the bloody hell –”

Mako lunged, tackling her to the ground from behind. In the fray, he noticed Jamie quietly slip from the post and disappear into the stalks. ‘ _Good boy_ ,’ he thought to himself as he tried to wrestle the shotgun away.

She managed to maneuver and butt him in the shoulder with it, and he stumbled back into the stalks, immediately lying flat on his back. Seconds later, a spray of buckshot flew above him; if he’d been standing, she would’ve hit. He quickly rolled to his knees.

Fortunately, Jamie must’ve moved at the same time on the other side of the clearing, because he heard Camille say, “What the fuck?” She’d noticed the scarecrow was gone. Mako took a deep breath and he carefully pushed stalks away to make some distance. “I dunno what game you’re playin’ here, mate, but it’s not gonna work!”

He stopped as stalks rustled to his right; he let out a breath when he saw the glow of Jamie’s goggles and held a finger to his lips. Jamie nodded and crouched down, carefully splaying himself in a pose that looked unquestionably predatory and unnerved even Mako.

Stalks gently rustled behind him. He heard Camille take a deep breath in and out, and took the opportunity to pull some more distance between them. “What the fuck?!” He heard another shot, one that was dampened as it hit something solid, and Mako’s heart stopped. She’d shot Jamie.

He circled back around to look.

Camille’s shotgun was pointed right at Jamie’s chest as he laid on the ground, unmoving. She was breathing heavily; clearly this was getting to her. ‘ _Get back up_ ,’ he found himself urging silently.

“Nice try, Hoggo! But now your buddy’s dead!” Camille yelled into the stalks after giving him an obligatory kick. “How many more people are gonna die because of your stubborn, fat ass?” She stepped over Jamie, and Mako was amazed to see Jamie slowly sit up once her back was turned to him. Looked like not even buckshot could keep Jamie down; for once, he was glad about his friend’s undead status.

She spun around at the sound of rustling behind her and didn’t even have time to scream. “That wasn’t very nice of ya,” Jamie said lightly, his voice a lilted, dangerous rasp, before grabbing the shotgun, ripping it away from her while she was stunned, and tackling her to the ground.

Mako started to move forward once she was subdued, fighting Jamie with flails, clawing her nails at his mask and screaming, but stopped when Jamie shushed her with a finger to her lips. “Now let’s get somethin’ real clear here, sheila. Clearly you’re not the full quid, but surely even a no-hoper like you’s got better things to do than chasin’ down an old man what wants nothin’ to do with you or whatever you’re sellin’. So how ‘bout you head right on out the back of Bourke where ya came from. ‘Cause if you come after him again –” Jamie leaned forward, his mask almost touching her face. “You’re gonna _wish_ I’d killed ya here.”

“Get off me!” Camille wailed, her struggles growing more frantic as he spoke.

“Promise!” Jamie snarled.

“Fine! Fucks’ sake, just lemme go!”

Jamie waited for another minute before jumping backwards off of her and disappearing into the stalks. Camille immediately pulled herself up, scampering backwards before finally finding her way up to her feet. Mako followed quietly as she raced out of the cornfield and back to her car. Mako stepped out of the field to watch her go, and they made eye contact for just a second. He almost felt bad at how terrified she looked.

Her car backed out of the farm like it was on fire and screamed off into the night. Jamie pulled himself out of the cornfield, immediately pulling his mask off. He looked pleased as punch and he pumped both fists in the air. “Fuck yeah! Showed that dog what-for.” He looked up at Mako, his smile wide but wanting.

“You did great,” Mako told him. Jamie’s smile fully blossomed, and he jumped up, crossing his legs behind Mako’s back to support himself in the full-body hug he gave him. Mako stumbled back with a startled grunt, putting his hands on Jamie’s hips. “Almost scared me.”

“Sorry. But it worked!” Jamie laughed, resting his head on Mako’s shoulder. “It worked.”

“Yeah.” Mako couldn’t help but smile, even when it became clear Jamie wasn’t planning on letting go. He sighed and carefully hoisted Jamie up so he could walk towards the house.

Jamie finally let go when they were in the living room. “Feels good to finally do somethin’ for you for once.”

Mako paused, then chuckled. “Don’t think this is a one-time thing. I’m gonna expect you to help more often now.”

“Anythin’ for you,” Jamie said sincerely, taking Mako’s hands. Mako smiled back before his eyes fell to Jamie’s chest, and his face fell. Jamie furrowed his brows and looked down. His chest was riddled with shrapnel and his coveralls were torn from the impact of buckshot. “Oh. Uh. It doesn’t hurt.”

“We should still get it cleaned up.” Mako urged him to the kitchen where he fished out the first aid kit. It was odd, seeing Jamie completely unresponsive to the antiseptic he dabbed on with cotton balls, and he had to improvise with gauze to cover it up. “Never had someone literally take a bullet for me before.”

“First bullet taken,” Jamie joked, giggling at the snort he received. Once Mako pulled away from applying the gauze, Jamie grabbed his wrist, his eyes crinkled in an anticipatory way. Once Mako looked up, he was surprised to see Jamie lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, quickly pulling away again.

Mako reached up and put his hand on Jamie’s cheek and leaned in, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. He felt Jamie’s hand rest on his.

They stayed that way for a good few minutes, until the urge to sleep overtook him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long'un!

“What do you mean, she’s gone?”

“She’s gone.” Mako took a sip of his tea. He was using his pig mug and the sun had risen over a nice layer of mist over the fields outside. “At least, I’m pretty sure. Gonna hide out for another day to make sure.”

“Mako, what did you do?”

“Scared her off.”

“How?” Ana’s voice sounded equal parts impatient and confused. “She’s been hunting you for, what, ten years? And she just gave up?”

“I enlisted some help. Jamison, my friend from the party. His Halloween costume came in handy.”

Ana huffed on the other end. Not out of exasperation; she was probably just really confused. He didn’t blame her. “I hope you’re right, Mako. It’d be nice to have you around for more than a few months. But there’s still the matter of _how_ she found you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your friend, Jamison. How long have you known him?”

Mako paused at that. Shit, they hadn’t thought their cover story through that well. “Long enough.”

“And he’s from Australia?”

“Yeah.” A creeping realization came upon him, and he set his mug down, a frown creasing his face. “Jamison didn’t tell her.”

“How do you know? Do you know him all that well?”

“He didn’t even know she existed.”

“Really? A man from Australia, a ‘friend’ of yours, doesn’t know the leader of the A.L.F.? Not even a little?”

“Ana, it wasn’t him.”

“Mako, I’m a mother. I know when someone’s lying to me. Either you don’t know your friend as well as you think, or you’re hiding something.” There was a bite to Ana’s words, the kind of chastising that made Mako think he was back in school.

Mako sighed, leaning forward. “Ana, there’s a lot going on right now.”

“I know. And I know you have your secrets, just as I have mine, but I need to know you’re not going to be in danger again.”

“I appreciate it, Ana,” Mako said sincerely after a moment. “It’s been a while since people cared.”

Once he’d said goodbye and hung up, Mako found himself with a shortage of things to do while under house arrest. Drumming his thick fingers against the kitchen counter, an urge came upon him. He didn’t get a lot of urges these days, but there was little else to do in the house but follow it, and the urge was telling him to cook.

No, not cook. _Bake_. It had been so long since he’d baked anything.

He hummed under his breath as he peered through his cupboards and the pantry. A recipe always came to mind when he thought of baking, the rewena paraoa his mother would make for… pretty much any kind of event, really. It’d take a while, but maybe inspiration for something else would strike while he worked on this. He nodded to himself in satisfaction.

He paused between dicing up the potato to write down potential biscuit recipes. He had a sweet tooth on occasion – god, how long had it been since Jamie had had a goddamn biscuit? The thought came unbidden, and he frowned, more at Jamie’s cookie-less predicament than anything else.

Mashing the potato with the flour and sugar had always been his favorite part of making bread as a kid. Something about it was relaxing even now. He paused mid-mash at the sound of tires crunching outside, but a quick peek showed that someone was just using his driveway to turn around. Despite himself, he heaved a sigh of relief.

With the bug in the fridge, he combed through his supplies again and found enough stuff for some pumpkin biscuits. Not his favorite, but it would do. Once he had the batter ready and had half of it already in the oven, he reconsidered and added chocolate chips to the rest. Might as well make it a treat.

He had just pulled the last biscuits out of the oven when he looked outside and saw it was already starting to get dark. Had he really killed that much time? He shook his head and started on the dishes just as he heard the thump-clack of Jamie making his way downstairs.

“Mornin’,” Jamie said sleepily, stretching his limbs like a cat after a nap.

“Hey,” Mako said over his shoulder.

“Any sign of Miss Suck-a-Fuck?”

Mako snorted, jerking his hands below the dishwater at the nickname. He had to take a moment to laugh at that before shaking his head. “No suck-a-fucks to be seen, Jamie.”

“Good.” Jamie sounded satisfied as he pulled out a chair at the table and sat himself down. “Smells good in here.”

“I was baking. Biscuits on the counter if you want ‘em.”

Before he had even finished his sentence, Jamie was back up and moving behind him to observe the biscuits. “What kind?”

“Pumpkin. Ones in the back have chocolate, but they’re still hot.”

“Ooh.” Mako looked over to see Jamie wiggle his flesh fingers before nabbing one, then two, of the treats. He set the last of the dishes to dry and drained the water, turning to Jamie as he dried his hands.

“I think we should tell everyone about you.”

Jamie paused mid-bite, eyes going wide. “Hwuah?”

“Ana’s been grilling me about our story. She thinks you spilled where I was to Camille. Lucio already knows, and Hana seemed to like you.”

“But… Mako, mate,” Jamie said with a mouth full of crumbs. “We literally just stopped you from gettin’ killed. Don’t’cha think we should take it easy for a bit? I don’t mind, really.”

“I do. And we’re going to have to tell them eventually. Might as well do it now that we’re not gonna have any more distractions.”

Jamie swallowed and frowned. “I mean… if you really think so, mate.”

“Yeah. We’ll have to do it tomorrow, I don’t wanna risk it just in case Camille is still out there.”

Jamie craned his neck to peer out the window of the back door. The little curtains were still drawn. “Alright. What should we tell ‘em? You found a cursed scarecrow and you’re helpin’ him become a real boy?”

Mako smirked at that, leaning against the counter and setting the towel aside. “Sounds good to me.”

“Fuck, you’re serious.” Jamie ran a hand through his hair, letting out a deep breath. “Okay. I’m gonna take a quick look around outside quick.” He popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth and stood.

“Alright. Don’t get shot again.”

Jamie saluted him and slipped out the back door, leaving Mako to idly wonder about his next move before he decided it was time to make a phone call.

Ana answered the phone with a somewhat weary “Hello?”

“Ana, it’s Mako. Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was just about to go to bed. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” Mako paused, rubbing the back of his neck. From outside, he heard some rustling and an errant giggle. “Well… actually, I wanted to tell you you’re right.”

“About?”

“Me lying to you. I think it’s about time I came clean about what’s going on. Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow?”

“Mako,” Ana said after a moment. “…Of course.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

“Good night.” He set his phone aside and started to dig through the freezer for a microwave dinner.

Jamie came back in just as he was settling on the couch and quickly took the opportunity to nuzzle into his side. Eventually, they settled on some kind of old-time horror movie marathon, which they turned off for a moment when they heard the occasional car passing by. Better safe than sorry, after all.

The next day, the first thing Mako did was check on the bug fermenting in the fridge. It still needed a few hours yet, so he fed it and texted Lucio and Hana, inviting them to dinner that night. Lucio got a separate text with the details of what was going to happen.

In the meantime, he decided to test if it really was safe by heading to the library for some more research. Now that he could hopefully search while uninterrupted, he looked up the farm fire again.

The police investigation revealed a lot of blood on a specific post in the middle of the field, consistent with massive bodily trauma, but a body hadn’t been found. The explosives found at the scene were also consistent with… an armed robbery?

Mako frowned and did some searching around. Eventually he found an article – a bank robbery in the city a few miles away. Explosives had been used, and witnesses stated all the assailants spoke with Australian accents.

“Jamie, what did you do?” he muttered softly as he scrolled through. Apparently they’d come in through the back by blowing the vault open and made their way out the front door, injuring five people and killing a security guard in the process. It seemed they’d never been caught.

He wrote down the name of the bank quickly and printed out the articles to show Jamie when he got home.

By the time he got home, the bug was fermented enough for him to complete making the rewena, so he stashed the articles on the bottom shelf of the coffee table. In the meantime, he decided a home-cooked meal was needed for tonight, and roasted vegetables in the oven while he mixed up the bread dough. A hearty vegetable soup and homemade bread – the perfect “I’m housing an undead scarecrow” reveal dinner.

Lucio arrived early. “Are you sure, Mako?” he said once they’d settled in the living room. “I mean, this isn’t exactly an easy thing to drop on people. Especially since we don’t know how to help.”

“I’ll talk about that, too,” Mako reassured. “Although I think there won’t be much need for help soon enough.”

“You’re figuring it out?”

“Yeah. Little by little.”

Lucio sighed. “Well, at least you’ve got the time to accept ‘little by little’ now. That Camille stuff – that’s crazy.”

“Yeah. I was hopin’ you’d never have to know about that.”

“It was definitely a surprise. But the Mako I know is better than that, and that’s what counts in my book.”

Jamie woke up and made his way downstairs, giving Lucio a nervous grin before seating himself on the couch, twiddling his fingers anxiously. “We should get you some new clothes,” Mako mused. “Ones that don’t smell like dirt and gunpowder.”

“Yeah, you – holy shit, what happened to your chest?” Lucio’s eyes widened at the remnants of the gunshot wound on Jamie’s chest.

Jamie looked down and laughed sheepishly. “I got shot.”

“What.”

“Camille. Don’t worry, he’s okay.”

“I don’t even know what clothes I’d like.”

“So we’re just gonna gloss over the ‘I got shot’ thing?”

The circular discussion was interrupted by a knock on the door. The three men looked up, and Mako moved to open the door. Ana greeted him with a hug, Hana right behind her. “A ‘no more stalker’ celebration dinner?” Hana guessed with a smile as they stepped inside.

“That… and I think there’s something you should know. Sit down.”

“Hey – Jamie, right?” Hana made herself at home, stretching out on the couch, and smiled at Jamie, a little unsure. “Uh… you know Halloween’s over, right?”

Jamie rubbed the back of his neck, sinking down as Mako sat next to him. Ana declined the offer to sit, instead leaning against the arm of the couch.

“So – I lied to you.” Mako folded his hands in his lap, leaning forward. “About a lot of stuff.”

Ana said nothing, but there was a disappointment in her eyes. The resigned, ‘I knew it’ kind. Hana, meanwhile, just looked confused.

“Jamie… isn’t a friend from back home. I didn’t even know him until I moved here. Which is how I know he didn’t tell Camille where I was.” Mako took a deep breath. “This is going to sound like total lunacy.”

“He’s an alien!” Hana gasped dramatically, giggling.

“Undead, actually,” Jamie corrected helpfully with a smile.

Hana snorted, continuing to laugh until she noticed the look Mako and Lucio were giving her. “…What?”

“Jamie died here, on this farm. Apparently, there’s a curse on the land; anything that dies here gets… reincarnated? Resurrected? I’m not really sure, Angela didn’t really specify.”

“Whoa whoa, wait. Angela? That doctor lady? What? My head hurts.”

“You’re trying to tell us that all this secretiveness is because of some fairy tale curse?” Ana’s eyebrows were furrowing in a way that Mako recognized as being completely and utterly annoyed.

“I know – Jamie,” Mako turned to his companion. “Show them your chest.”

Jamie stood up, shifted his coveralls aside, and showed off the scattered leftovers of the buckshot he’d taken last night.

“Oh my god.” Hana covered her mouth and Ana’s eye widened, face paling slightly. He felt bad showing that to her, knowing the things she’d seen when she was in active duty.

“Miss – uh, that Camille lady got me acquainted with her shotgun. It wasn’t nice,” Jamie clarified, readjusting his coveralls.

“How are you up and walking around right now? A normal person would need to be hospitalized for that.”

“Jamie’s not normal.”

“Hey, why aren’t you surprised about this?” Hana pouted at Lucio. “You knew about this?”

“Yeah. That day I came up to check on Mako, Jamie kinda… thought I was a burglar and kinda attacked me.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Wasn’t my place.” Lucio leaned forward, resting his arms on the back of the chair. “This is Mako’s thing he’s dealin’ with.”

“So the Hallowen party…?”

“Jamie hasn’t really… been around people since before he died. I thought it’d be a good excuse to let him talk to people aside from me.”

Ana sighed, shaking her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Mako, when you said you were going to tell me everything, I didn’t really expect… this.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But the good news is that the curse can be broken. That’s what I’ve been working on. I think we’re close.” Mako paused, letting the information sink in. Everything was quiet for a long few minutes, and he eventually stood with a grunt. “Don’t suppose everyone’s still hungry?”

“Well...” Hana said after a moment. “Something _does_ smell really good. Can, uh… can you eat? I mean…”

“Yeah,” Jamie said, standing up and stretching. His shoulders popped. “Don’t get anythin’ out of it, but it tastes good, at least.”

Ana and Hana seemed a little uneasy eating next to what they’d just learned was an undead man, but Hana’s curiosity got the better of her. “So how do you break this curse or whatever?”

“I lost me memories when I carked it,” Jamie said through a mouthful of bread, earning a scornful look from Mako. He took a second to swallow before continuing. “So basically, I just gotta learn about who I was before.”

“Oh! Like a historical scavenger hunt. That sounds like a chore.”

“It _is_ a chore.” Jamie glanced at Mako with a bright smile. “But we’re gettin’ there!”

“You seem pretty cool for a zombie.” Hana relaxed a little; maybe between the soup and Jamie’s laidback demeanor, the whole idea wasn’t so crazy anymore. “You don’t eat brains, right?”

“Nah. Too chewy.”

An awkward silence fell over the table. Mako rested his face in his hand.

“You have a strange sense of humor, don’t you?” Ana eventually said.

“Yeah, I –” Jamie suddenly slammed his spoon onto the table with a sharp gasp, eyes opening wide. The glow almost… flared.

“Jamie?”

“ – Holy shit!” Jamie gasped, shaking his head out. “Whoo. Okay, I’m okay.”

“What just happened?”

“I just remembered somethin’.” He looked up and grinned. “Yeah. People hate my sense of humor.”

“You’re a punner, aren’t you,” Lucio said flatly. Jamie winked at him.

Mako chuckled, taking another piece of bread.

After dinner, Lucio offered to take Hana home, leaving just Ana and Mako to clean up while Jamie went upstairs. “I didn’t expect this,” Ana said finally after handing him the last of the dishes. “But I’m glad you came clean. I can’t imagine this has been easy to handle by yourself.”

“It hasn’t.”

“He seems to like you quite a lot.”

Mako filled up the bowls with dish soap and water to let them soak overnight and pondered that for a moment. “I don’t think anyone’s ever actually… took an interest in him before.”

“Oh?” Ana quirked an eyebrow, the corner of her lips raising.

“Not like that,” he said defensively. “I mean… can you imagine? Dying, waking up and realizing you’re dead, and everyone being too scared to try and understand you?”

“I think you’re projecting a bit on that last part.” Ana rested her hand on his shoulder. “But you’re right. It’s good of you to help. It definitely helps me rest easier knowing you’re not alone out here all the time.”

“He’s surprisingly good company.” Mako dried off his hands and escorted Ana to the front door.

“For your sake, I hope he stays that way. Although I’m sure if he meant any ill will, the hamsa would have protected you.” She hugged him, a warm and comforting gesture that he returned. “Thank you for dinner.”

“Good night.” He watched her go back to her car from the front door, only closing it when she started to pull out the driveway. He paused to look at the papers under the coffee table, then shook his head and turned off the lights. He could tell Jamie about what he’d found tomorrow.


	14. Chapter 14

Unfortunately, with safety came the need to return to work. Mako carefully untangled himself from Jamie’s embrace (he learned very quickly that Jamie was a cuddler, and tended to throw his limbs haphazardly over Mako’s chest) and took out a slip of paper while his coffee brewed.

He’d just started to write “leftovers in the fridge, stay out of trouble” when he realized Jamie wouldn’t be awake until Mako came home. He shook his head, tore out the page, and crumpled it up before throwing it into the garbage.

He couldn’t help but notice someone was missing, mostly because the crew wouldn’t stop talking about it. “Fuckin’ Clancy,” he heard as he measured out wooden beams for the roof support. “S’not like him to just up and leave, is it?”

“Probably ran off with that trailer trash that was hanging around last week.”

Well, Mako thought, looked like he found Camille’s informant. Probably took off with her. He snorted quietly under his breath but said nothing, focusing on his work.

He stopped by the café on the way home and took a moment to cherish the feeling of normality it brought. “Flat white,” he said with ease; he didn’t recognize the barista, but she nodded.

“Anything else?”

He shook his head, then paused. “Hey, don’t suppose you know anything about boba tea?” The barista gave him a quizzical look, so he backpedaled. “Never mind. Actually, make it two flat whites. To go.”

The drive home took a bit longer than usual; snow had started to fall as he left the café and he was taking the time to enjoy the ride now that he was sure there wasn’t a target on his back.

Jamie had something in his hands when Mako unlocked the front door, a crumpled piece of paper. Jamie gave him a teasing smile and waved it in the air. “Aw. You left me a note. Almost like we’re proper family.”

Mako rolled his eyes and swatted him in the back of the head. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him drop the paper with a yelp. “C’mere. I found something I wanted to show you – and I got you coffee. A flat white.”

Jamie perked up at that, eyebrows raising thoughtfully. “God, dunno how long it’s been since I’ve had one’a those.”

He turned on the evening news and they sat, watching it in silence as they enjoyed their coffee. Finally, Mako put his cup aside and retrieved the articles from the previous day. “Jamie. I did some digging yesterday and I found something about you.”

Jamie perked up at that, putting his cup on the coffee table and leaning forward. “Yeah?”

Mako hesitated and then handed the articles over. “Take your time.”

Jamie snatched up the articles, starting to read through them intently. Mako watched his smile become puzzled, then fade. Finally, he gasped sharply and threw the papers towards the table, jumping to his feet. “Scrapheap, the bastard!”

“You remember?”

“Fuckin’ – it was gonna be our magnum opus, y’know? No one ever thinks of breakin’ into a bank through the actual vault! But that drongo decided he’d rather not share and –” Jamie stopped, his breathing slowing as he looked to Mako with wide eyes. He must’ve seen the disappointment that came across his face because he sunk back into his chair. “Mako… mate, I’m sorry.”

“You were a criminal. You killed someone.”

“Yeah.” Jamie rubbed the back of his neck, eyebrows furrowing in a grimace. “I, uh. Guess I was a bit of a bad seed. Makes sense why I remember people not likin’ me too much, then.”

“Would you do it again?” Jamie looked up, puzzled. Mako leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “If you had the chance. People would get hurt and die. Would you do it again?”

“Knowin’ what I know now?” Jamie mused on that for a second, then shook his head. “…I dunno. I guess I have to remember why I did it in the first place.”

Mako stood and took the papers from Jamie’s hands and headed to the back door, stopping to grab a lighter from one of the kitchen cabinets. He could feel Jamie hovering behind him as he dug a hole into the earth, stuff the paper inside, and lit it on fire. “Past’s in the past,” he said, watching the paper curl up and turn black.

Jamie made a musing sound behind him. “I was the explosives guy.”

“Explains the bag of bombs they found.”

“Always liked when things went ‘kaboom’.”

“Don’t blow up my house.”

Jamie snorted, giggling and jumping up to wrap his arms around Mako’s neck. “No worries. Last thing I wasn’t is for you to join me in sleepin’ in the barn.” He let go and took Mako’s hand to pull him back inside. “We got any more of that bread left? That was delicious.”

“Family recipe. There should be a little on the counter.”

“Score.” Jamie shuffled around until he found the breadbox, cutting himself a slice and nodding to it as he looked back at Mako. Mako nodded, heading into the living room as Jamie started cutting another piece.

In the meantime, he sent Hana a text. If anyone knew anything about boba or whatever, it’d be her. She texted him back a few minutes later about this place in the city, and he saved the address in a memo on his phone. That’d be the first stop once he was sure he could take Jamie out without causing a scene.

“We should get you some new clothes,” Mako said as Jamie handed him a slice of bread, lightly buttered.

“I probably smell a bit ripe, don’t I?” Jamie giggled, flopping down to lounge on the couch, partly draped across Mako’s lap.

Mako grunted in confirmation. “Don’t suppose you remember your size?” Jamie grinned up at him sheepishly. That was a ‘no’, then. Mako rolled his shoulders and settled into the couch, focusing back on the television. “We’ll go buy you some stuff tomorrow, it’ll probably be trial and error to figure it out.”

“Mate, you don’t gotta –”

“No matter how many times you’ve said that, I always do, don’t I?”

Jamie pursed his lips in thought, humming quietly. “Just don’t want people to think you’re my sugar daddy or whatever.”

Mako snorted, coughing as he nearly choked on his bread. “Fuck.” Jamie laughed right along with him, rolling over so he was flat on his back and looking up at Mako. “It’s a favor. You’re gonna pay it back eventually.”

“How?”

“Cleaning up for once would be nice.” Mako rested his hand on Jamie’s head, feeling over his hair. It was coarse and dry; he probably hadn’t showered since he died.

“Anythin’ you want.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

The second he got done with work the next day, he went home and shoved Jamie into the passenger seat of his truck. To get Jamie into town with the least amount of scrutiny, he let Jamie borrow an old pair of boots and a jacket that was way too big. Sunglasses hid the glow of his eyes, even if they did look out of place with the encroaching darkness of the setting sun.

“I stick out like a sore thumb,” Jamie muttered as they worked their way through the local hypermarket.

“We won’t be here very long,” Mako assured him.

They managed to get out after just a few hours of Jamie poorly guessing his clothing sizes and winding up almost drowning in most of what he picked out. But a few pairs of jeans, some flannel shirts, and a heavy jacket later, Mako had to admit that Jamie looked a lot more presentable outside of his coveralls. He wagered that before the whole undead thing, Jamie must’ve been quite the looker.

“So you’re expectin’ me to stick around,” Jamie said on the ride home, his gaze focused on the snow-covered landscapes that they drove past.

“You’ve got a lot of favors to make up for.”

“No, I mean – when this curse gets broken. You don’t think…”

“No,” Mako said firmly, clicking on the turn signal into the driveway to his house. “I don’t.”

Jamie was quiet the rest of the night until Mako started to settle in for the night. “I’ve always liked your tattoo,” he said suddenly, standing at the foot of the bed after Mako had pulled off his shirt.

“Yeah?” He looked down with a dry smile. He’d chosen the pig motif when he was younger and, admittedly, more stupid, but his tattoo was still a soft spot after all this time.

“Yeah.” Jamie awkwardly sat next to him, gnawing his lip for a moment. “I wanna stick around, too. At the risk of soundin’ all confessional and gross… I don’t think I’ve ever had someone like you, mate.”

Mako raised a brow. “’Someone like me’?”

“Like… someone who… cared?” Jamie rubbed the back of his neck. “Christ, that sounds pathetic.”

“Yeah, it does.” Mako snickered at the offended look Jamie gave him and hugged him close with one arm. “Go to bed.”

“I’m already there.” Jamie pouted up at him, resting his head in the crook of Mako’s arm.

“Oh, yeah.”

But while the warmth of blankets and the comfort of Jamie snoring away next to him were comforting enough to send him halfway into sleep, thoughts kept him from completely diving in. He cared about Jamie, that was obvious, but even he had to admit that it was hard to explain away their relationship.

He forced the thoughts of his head, turned to pull Jamie tighter against him, and eventually fell asleep in full.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Approaching the endgame here! Thinking there'll be one, maybe two more chapters left. This is gonna be a ride.

Ana’s eyes were hard and cold, and Mako couldn’t bring himself to keep eye contact with her, instead taking a long drink from his cup. “You’ve been harboring a fugitive this whole time?”

“I didn’t know. Hell, _he_ didn’t even know.”

“I can appreciate you want to help him, but you have to think about what having that hanging around you again might do to you.”

“I _know_ , Ana.” Mako set his cup down and had to force his hand to relax, lest he shatter the cup. “I haven’t thought about anything else all day. What if this comes back to bite him in the ass like Camille did with me? What if he turns into a completely different person when the curse gets broken? Should I even bother in case he does? I’ve thought about it, Ana.”

Ana sipped her tea, leaning back just a little bit. “This was a few years ago. They never caught his friends?”

“No. Not that I’ve heard, anyway. Jamie mentioned one of them was called ‘Scrapheap’.”

Ana gave him a puzzled look. “Kids are choosing the strangest nicknames these days.”

“It’s a gang name. I should know. Almost sounds like the kind of names they gave us in the A.L.F.”

“You don’t think…?”

“Might be a splinter organization or something. The A.L.F. was more about terrorism, not bank robberies.”

They were both quiet for a moment, letting the tension diffuse through coffee and the white noise of conversation around them. “You care about him quite a bit, then, to worry this much.”

Mako didn’t answer, instead looking at the half-sip of coffee left in his cup. If he finished it now, he’d either have to listen to more chastising or leave and catch hell for running away. “I… don’t know,” he finally confessed, running a hand over his hair. “I… It's complicated."

“I’d imagine.”

“Everything that’s happened to him… he said himself that I’m the only person that’s stuck around, and it shows – he’s very… touchy. But I don’t mind. And I just... I like having him around. It’s comforting.”

Ana shrugged lightly, setting her cup down. It was empty, which gave Mako the indication the conversation was heading to a close. He finished off his coffee as she spoke. “Could you even start imagining not having him around anymore?”

“No.”

“You feel happy just having him around, and thinking about him leaving hurts.”

Mako didn’t reply, which he knew Ana would take to mean ‘yes’.

“You know, Mako, if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that love –” Ana paused at the look that came across Mako’s face, one of mild alarm, and chuckled. “It’s not always the way they write it in the novels.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” a voice said to their left, and Mako was mortified to see Hana skid to a stop by their table, eyes wide and a damp towel in her hand. “ _What_?”

“Nothing.”

“I definitely heard the ‘l’ word!”

Mako dropped his head in his hands. “I’m too old for this shit.”

Hana slid into the seat next to him, her smile twisting from coy to confused. “With… who? _Jamie_?”

“I’m leaving.”

“Mako,” Ana said gently, stopping him from standing up after he pushed his chair out. He begrudgingly sat back down with a huff.

“It’s not – I don’t want… all the usual things. It’s not some kind of ‘I saw him across the bar’ shit, it’s…”

“Less Jack and Rose, more Raleigh and Mako Mori?” Hana offered helpfully. Ana and Mako both looked at her. “Y’know, _Pacific Rim_? You’re not, like, soul mates. More like drift-compatible.”

Mako looked at Ana. “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”

Hana groaned and set her hands in front of her, the way she always did when she was annoyed. “You just kind of click, right? Like, you get each other and care about each other more than just ordinary friends would – like, from the outside, it looks like you guys are together like that – but you're not. You just mesh.”

Mako hummed quietly. It kind of made sense when she put it like that. After a moment of pondering, he just shook his head again and stood. “I’m pushing 50, I think that kind of thing is long past my time.”

Hana pouted at him, then stood up when she heard someone yelling her name. “Whoops! Sorry, gotta go!” She quickly made her way to the next table to wipe it down.

“Well, you’ll know what it is when the time’s right.” Ana pushed out her seat, taking her cup to the dirty dish basket above the garbage cans with Mako following behind. “Either way, you’ll need to decide what to do if more trouble comes up with Jamie.”

Mako grunted in acknowledgement.

When he arrived home, he heard water running upstairs. “Jamie?” he called out. There was no response. He cautiously ascended the stairs, relaxing slightly when he heard humming. He stopped at the door and knocked just as the water stopped running. “Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

“Just checkin’ that was you and not a burglar.”

The door cracked open and Jamie peeked out, a cheeky smile on his face. His hair was wet, dripping water onto the wood floor. “What kinda burglar stops to take a shower?”

“What kind of robber breaks into the bank through the vault?”

“Touché.”

“I’ll be downstairs.” He watched Jamie nod and close the door again before heading back down to the kitchen. Jamie came down a few minutes later wearing a shirt that he nearly drowned in, one that Mako recognized as one of his own as he sat in front of the TV with his dinner.

“It was in the laundry hamper,” Jamie said sheepishly as he settled on the couch.

“I don’t mind. Mind if I ask you something?”

“Didn’t give me much of a chance, did ya?”

Mako rolled his eyes and shoved Jamie’s shoulder. “What do you remember about, uh… Scrapheap?”

Jamie leaned back, eyebrows furrowing in suspicion. “Why?”

“Just wanna see if it triggers something else.”

Jamie hummed, drawing his legs up to his chest. “…About my age, maybe a bit older? Was a proper bogan, even more than me. Brown hair, blue eyes – ah.” He looked up, expression going blank for just a moment. “He had a scar, kinda weird thing he did himself by his eyebrow. Like one of those curvy bracket things.”

Mako quirked a brow. “He gave himself a scar?”

“Yeah. He said he wanted more street cred.”

“Sounds like a cunt.”

“He killed me. He _was_ a cunt.” Jamie looked up, beaming and starting to snicker. Soon they were both laughing, and Mako’s worries diminished for just a moment. “You’d think this’d be enough to get it all comin’ back to me.”

“I think it’s like you said before. You just need to remember _why_ you did the things you did and maybe that’ll be it.” Mako set his dinner on the coffee table and sighed. “What if we took you to that bank?”

Jamie tensed. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea, mate.”

“It’s something, though. Better than what we have now.”

“Let’s give it a bit. I don’t think I’d like to burst into flame in the middle of a city block or whatever. See if we can find more stuff here?”

Mako hummed quietly. “Alright. Fair enough. I don’t think I’d like if that happened either.”

Jamie nodded and turned to the TV. More reruns. Eventually, he twiddled his thumbs and said, “I don’t think you told me who Camille was to ya.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No, you just said you did bad things and she was involved or whatever.”

Mako pondered that for a second and realized he was right. He never specified what he’d done. “Fair enough.” He grabbed his dinner again and took a contemplative bite. “She was the leader of the A.L.F. branch where I was from.”

“A.L.F.?”

“Australian Liber –”

“– ation Front,” Jamie gasped suddenly, finishing Mako’s sentence with wide eyes. “Fuck. That – that means somethin’.”

Mako perked up slightly, watching him for a second. “What?”

“I – I don’t know. That name just rings a bell but – rrgh!” Jamie flopped his legs down onto the ground, going slack in the chair with a groan as he tilted his head back. “It’s not comin’ to me.”

“Maybe it’s not the right time.” Mako frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. “Angela said it’d get painful as we went.”

“But the worst part was rememberin’ the first few things. Everythin’ else has been easy.” Jamie sighed, closing his eyes.

“It’d make sense you’d know about the A.L.F., though.”

“I didn’t realize you were part of it.” Jamie slowly raised his head, eyes widening. “Wait a second. Mako… what’s your last name?”

His heart sank a bit. “Rutledge.”

“Holy shit. I… I remember readin’ about you.” Jamie re-perched in the chair, crouching down on the seat like a gargoyle as his eyes flared. “You were a top lieutenant or somethin’, right? But then you just disappeared one day.”

“War was over, the Front was turning into more of a gang than an organization.” Mako shrugged, turning his eyes back to the TV. “Had enough.”

“So… Camille came after you ‘cause…”

“She didn’t want me to leave. I hurt a lot of people in the getaway, and she was always a fan of blood for blood.”

“Oh.” Jamie leaned back again, relaxing as he pursed his lips. “I used to – no. No, I…”

Mako looked at him quizzically and stood as he noticed Jamie’s eyes became unfocused, shoulders shaking with tension. “Jamie, it’s okay. You don’t have to remember yet.” Jamie didn’t respond, just sitting there like a cat reliving the end of seven of its lives. Mako’s heart hurt at the expression on his face – lost, confused, and absolutely torn.

Before he knew it, he’d knelt in front of the chair and pulled Jamie to his chest, holding him close. “Come back, Jamie. C’mon.”

Jamie’s whole body was shaking now, but he wasn’t making a sound and he wasn’t responding to the touch. But Mako didn’t budge. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he let it out at the feeling of Jamie raising his arms to curl around his shoulders. “I deserved this,” Jamie said quietly.

“Maybe you did,” Mako replied, not letting go even as Jamie’s body went slack. “But a friend of mine told me once that what you do now speaks more about you than what you did back then.”

“Sounds easier said than done.”

“It is.”

Mako finally let go when Jamie patted his shoulder, but he was prevented from going anywhere by a hand gripping his arm. “What am I? To you.”

“Jamie.”

“No, I… if I do get to stick around – or hell, even if I don’t – I don’t want things to be all weird with us not talkin’ about it or whatever.”

Mako was quiet as he thought it over, averting his gaze to Jamie’s fingers digging into the muscles of his arm. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.

Jamie was silent for a long second, then finally he laughed. “That makes two of us, I guess.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I gotta make everythin’ weird at least once a month. It’s a quota. In the end, guess it don’t matter too much as long as I know you’ve got my back. And I’ll have yours. Deal?”

Mako reached forward to extend a hand, and Jamie took it, shaking it. “Deal.”

“- and also you gotta make bikkies for me once a month!” Jamie added rapidly, his fingers closing on Mako’s hand until he finished his sentence, after which he let go with a giggle and scrambled off of Mako’s lap.

“Dammit,” Mako said in mock anger, standing slowly. “You know what happens to people who trick me?”

“Bring it!” Jamie climbed up and over the back of the chair and got three feet before Mako tackled him to the ground as gently as he could. Jamie was pretty sturdy, but he didn’t want to crush the poor thing. “No!” Jamie shrieked as Mako put him in a half-nelson hold, clawing at the carpet in a vain attempt to get away.

But Mako held on, not tight enough to hurt or cause any damage but just enough to keep Jamie firmly in his grip. “Say ‘uncle’.”

“No!”

“Say it!”

Jamie fought valiantly for another three seconds before he finally yelled, “Christ! Uncle! Uncle!”

Mako chuckled and let him go, standing up and heaving a deep breath. He reached down to offer Jamie a hand up.

Jamie rolled over, panting slightly from the exertion, and took his hand, immediately burying his face in Mako’s chest with a giggle.

“You remind me what it’s like to have fun,” Mako said after a moment, in awe at the very concept as it dawned on him. Jamie said nothing, but his laughter died down. “What it’s like to have someone around that I’m… comfortable around. Haven’t felt that in a long time.”

“Your family, I’m guessin’?”

Mako wrapped his arms around Jamie’s shoulders. “My daughter. ‘N my wife. Died in a raid – someone told the police my house was a safehouse for the A.L.F. I’d just joined up, was across the country at a rally when it happened.”

“Christ.”

“S’why I stuck through until we started using codenames and doing all those bad things. Figured I didn’t have anything to be good for anymore.”

Jamie was quiet. He didn’t move from his spot, still holding on. “What changed?”

“Picked a fight with the wrong merc. Set me straight. Ana was a menace with that rifle.”

Jamie snorted. “What, that old biddy with the one eye? She was a merc?”

“Yeah. Long story.” Mako pulled away from Jamie, holding onto him by the shoulders for a minute before dropping his hands to his sides.

Jamie watched him for a minute before reaching up to grab the sides of Mako’s face and pull him down, kissing his forehead once he was in reach. “Know that probably doesn’t clear things up,” he said quietly. “I just… wanna. Dunno why.”

“It’s okay.” Mako stood up straight again and looked at the clock on the wall. “Think it’s bedtime.”

“Okay.” Jamie paused, waiting until Mako had turned and was about to climb the stairs to follow and say, “Mako? I think the end’s comin’. This thing I’m scared to remember… I think that’s the final straw.”

“When it happens, we’ll be ready,” Mako replied evenly. “C’mon.” He ascended the stairs, and eventually heard Jamie trail up after him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more background on Jamie's past, and the finale!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a trip. There's just gonna be one more chapter to clear up some loose ends, but this is the end of Jamie's particular plot line.

He woke up to a text from Hana and had the wonderful task of deciphering her emoji-speak over morning coffee. Thankfully, she also sent a link that helped clear it up, some kind of ancestry website with a suggestion that he use it to find out about Jamie’s family.

‘ _Not a bad idea_ ,’ he thought, and he texted her the same.

Instead of going right home from work, he went to the library to try it out. He figured Jamie could use some time to figure out what to do when he wasn’t home. He typed in “Jamison Fawkes”, but paused as it asked for a date of birth or death. It dawned on him that he hadn’t bothered to ask if Jamie remembered when he died. Of course, with his death being in the middle of nowhere, USA, it probably wouldn’t be on the record.

He shook his head and entered in Australia as the location. A few different entries popped up, but a lot of them were from the early 20th century. He scrolled through, looking for a younger age to pop up, when he found it. “Jamison Fawkes - Born 1992.” That would make him currently about 25.

“Way too young,” Mako sighed, clicking on the name and groaning as he was taken to a registration screen.

‘np,’ Hana texted back before sending him another link.

‘what’s that?’

‘generates a rndm login so u dont have 2 register.’

He shrugged and plugged in the website. Sure enough, he got in with ease. ‘how do you find this stuff’

‘friend frm school, she’s n2 hacking stuf.’ She inserted some characters that looked vaguely like someone shrugging. He shook his head.

‘be careful with that stuff.’ With that, he set his phone aside and started poking through. Sure enough, there were a few names attached, but he stopped on the names of his parents. Kimberly and William Fawkes, both deceased.

He felt his fingers twitch on the mouse. He knew those names.

He put the names into a search engine, despite knowing full well what would come up. News articles from the war about casualties in the A.L.F. attack on a manufacturing plant just outside of Brisbane. He let out a deep breath and rested his head in his hands.

He knew Jamie’s parents. He’d met them a few times, a few years before the war had ended and the A.L.F. had been branded a terrorist organization. Kimberly had been a sweet girl with light blonde hair, an innocent smile, and a doctorate in internal medicine; William was quiet but firm, a lawyer by trade. He remembered thinking they seemed out of place in the A.L.F. and that it was a shame to see their names in the obituaries.

How long after meeting them had Jamison been born? A year or so?

A twist of unease entered his stomach. The way he (possibly?) felt about Jamie knowing that he was about the same age as his parents left a bad taste in his mouth.

He clicked out of the search. The only mention of Jamison was a birth certificate in Ipswich, but after that, there was nothing. Mako frowned. An orphan would have been placed in the foster system, but there wasn’t any mention of adoptions or anything regarding Jamie. So where had he gone when his parents died?

He hesitantly went back and printed out the article dictating his parents’ deaths and headed home.

Jamie was watching TV when he entered the house, stretched out in a lounge on his couch. “Hey,” he said cheerfully without even looking up. “You’re back later than usual.”

“Was doin’ some research. Don’t suppose you wanna talk about it?” Jamie paused then shook his head. “Okay.” He went to hang up his coat and settle in for the night.

“What was your daughter’s name?” He stopped at the question, and Jamie quickly followed up with, “Sorry, don’t wanna pry, I’m just - I think I’ve always been too curious for my own good -“

“Katarina.”

“What?”

“Katarina,” Mako repeated softly. One hand braced himself on the wall, the other falling to his side. “Called her Kat for short. My wife’s name was Pania.”

Jamie rolled off the couch, thump-clacking his way to Mako before wrapping his arms around his chest from behind. “Sorry.”

“No. Ana’s always said I can’t keep livin’ in the past. That I’d have to talk about it eventually.”

“Sounds like a biddy worth marryin’,” Jamie joked, earning a huff of a laugh from Mako.

“Nah. Might’ve thought about it a while ago, but things have always just been... complicated.”

“Right. Can’t get it on when someone’s tryin’ to kill ya all the time.”

Mako wormed his way around to pry Jamie off of him, pushing him away with a firm palm on his forehead. Jamie giggled, barely trying to fight back and settling to fall back on the couch, legs dangling over the arm.

“I respect her too much to try anything.” Mako shook his head and headed to the kitchen. “Anyway. I need dinner.”

Jamison settled back in to watching television while he preheated the oven for a pizza. He vaguely remembered Lucio lecturing him about eating healthier. He shook his head and checked his phone idly.

By the time he’d put the pizza in the oven and come back to the living room, Jamie was hanging upside down, legs kicked up over the back of the couch and his head hanging down towards the floor. “D’you like pigs?” he asked idly.

“Where’d that come from?”

“I dunno. I was just thinkin’ about all that lil’ pig mug you’ve got. S’cute.”

“Yeah.” He sat down next to Jamie, who tried to pat his stomach but couldn’t quite reach.

“Cute.” Jamie dropped his arm again and hummed quietly. Mako didn’t recognize the song. “I like rats. Smart lil’ buggers, plus they’re pretty cuddly.”

“Huh.”

“It’s just kinda funny.” Mako quirked a brow at him. “Well, you like pigs, ‘n your name in the A.L.F. was Roadhog, right? I like... rats, and...” Jamie drifted off for a second, his eyes dimming.

“It’s okay.”

Jamie took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “I had a nickname, too. Makes me think we’re a lot closer than we think, yeah?”

“Are you comfortable remembering?”

“I already have, it’s... if I remember all at once, it - it feels like it’ll be too much. But maybe I can, ah, filter it or somethin’.” Jamie went quiet again before muttering, “My friend’s name was Scrapheap. I was Junkrat.”

Mako rested his head in a hand and sighed heavily. That was definitely a nickname in the vein of the A.L.F. “Dammit.”

“I know. S’why I didn’t wanna say anythin’ - this’d be the nail in the coffin, wouldn’t it? Ana’s already sure Miss Suck-a-Fuck found you through me -”

“No. I was gone by the time you were old enough to join in, I’d bet.”

Jamie pulled himself back up to bury his face in Mako’s lap. He tensed a bit at the awkwardness of the position, but relaxed quickly and put his hand on the back of Jamie’s head.

“I’m here. No matter what.”

Jamie mumbled something, but it was muffled by Mako’s jeans. Mako was just about to ask him what he’d said when a loud beeping made him jump. Jamie ricocheted right back into a sitting position, eyes wide.

”...Pizza’s done.” Mako cleared his throat and stood to go shut off the timer.

By the time he’d cut the pizza up into slices and come back to the living room with a plate, Jamie was gone. “Jamie?” There was no response.

The first thing he did was call Angela. “I think Jamie’s in the home stretch,” he said as he threw on his coat. He’d searched the whole house and there was no sign of the scarecrow. “But it looks ike it’s going to be bad. I don’t know -“

“I’ll be right there,” Angela said. Even when interrupting him, something about her voice exuded patience and comfort. “See if you can find him. If tonight is the night, help him. If he’s forced to process all of the information at once, he might get overwhelmed.”

“Little late for that,” Mako muttered. “Thanks.”

The only place he could think Jamie would go was back to the post he’d been hung on. So he threw on his boots and headed out into the field.

A layer of snow had fallen over the course of the past few days, and it crunched under his feet as he pulled his way through the corn stalks. Sure enough, Jamie was knelt in front of the post, his hands interlocked behind his head. Mako knelt next to him, putting a hand on his back. “Are you ready?”

“No,” Jamie said faintly, taking a deep breath.

“Your parents were in the A.L.F. They died. You kinda fell off the radar, I think. I couldn’t find anything about you after that.”

“Yeah.” Jamie trembled just a bit. “Some of them folks took me in. Some kinda... foster program for folks what were orphaned ‘cause... of what they did. Ow.”

Mako saw a flash of orange, but said nothing. “Take your time.”

“I wasn’t in it. Some... some other kids started this gang - Junkers. Didn’t have nowhere to go. The A.L.F. was gettin’ too crazy and borin’. Kept ourselves busy playin' with scrap metal.”

“Scrapheap was part of that gang, right? Got the idea from the code names?”

“Yeah. Decided we didn’t wanna mess with that government business, just -” Jamie hissed, doubling over with a whimper. “Fuck! I was terrible.”

“So was I. It’s nothin’ I’ve never heard before.”

Jamie had to take another few deep breaths, but before he could continue, a car pulled in the driveway. He jerked up, eyes wide, and Mako was taken aback. His expression was more akin to a startled wild animal than anything. “I called Angela. She’s here to help.” Jamie said nothing, still just trying to breathe. “Angela,” Mako called out. “Go to the post.” He reached into his pocket to find his phone, turning on the flashlight and illuminating the post to make it easier to find.

“Chaos,” Jamie mumbled as he looked back to the ground.

Angela appeared through the stalks after a moment. She was wearing a cashmere coat. It looked pretty warm, Mako noted as she knelt down in the snow. “Jamison,” she said quietly, touching his arm. “Don’t force it.”

He seemed to wither in exhaustion at that, shaking just a bit. “I hurt a lot of people.”

“You were the explosives guy,” Mako recalled.

“Yeah. Not just in the city - we hit everywhere. Started close to home, in Australia. Stowed away on boats. I’ve... I’ve been everywhere, Mako.” He looked up at that, his eyes dimming. “Think you’d like Mexico.”

“You went to Mexico?”

“Yeah. We - ugh.” Jamie doubled over again, his whole body shaking. He made a weird noise; it took Mako a second to realize he was retching.

“Are the memories bad, Jamie? Or are there just a lot of them?”

“Both,” Jamie finally said. Angela moved further to take his shoulders from behind, rubbing them gently. “Thanks.”

“What did you do?”

“We - we didn’t just rob banks. We... we kidnapped people for ransom, right? Straight murdered some. I made steel traps to catch a bloke in England, listened to ‘im cry with his leg all mangled. Got a nice bit of cash for that."

Mako and Angela exchanged a look. Angela’s expression was... almost disappointed, but also accepting. He figured she’d known that Jamie’s past was bad, given his punishment.

“In California,” Jamie mumbled once his breathing had steadied again. “One of ours messed up. So we - we strung ‘im up. Tower, made of some steel beams, y’know? Let him sweat it out a few minutes before we ended it. I blew 'im sky high."

“Jamie.”

“I deserved this. I - I wasn’t as bad as Scrap, he was a lot worse - right psychopath. But I went along with it. ‘Cause I - I was a troublemaker, no one liked me all that much, so I just...”

“Wanted approval.” Mako shifted around Angela to hug Jamie to his chest.

“So the heist. We came out here to - to celebrate, yeah? I asked about, y’know, splittin’ it, and I noticed Scrap and the other guy were just givin’ each other these looks, right?”

Mako noticed something glowing under his arm and pulled away just enough to see the scars on Jamie’s arms emitting the same glow of his eyes. He gave Angela a questioning look, but she shushed him.

“Finally realized somethin’ was up. Scrap stands up and just says, ‘Didn’t get the note? Last stop for you’ or whatever. So we scuffled or whatever but that other guy - fuck, I don’t remember his name - they got the drop - Mako, I don’t feel right.”

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t -” He jerked back into Mako’s arms suddenly, and Mako had to press down just to keep from being thrown off.

Angela slipped around to Jamie’s other side to hold on as well, her eyebrows furrowed. Mako could notice little wrinkles on her forehead, betraying her youthful appearance. “Jamison Fawkes. You remember your crimes. Now it’s time to choose.”

“What?”

“Are you guilty?”

“Yes,” Jamie eventually choked out. Mako dug his fingers into his arms to keep him still, watching his scars glow brighter.

“Do you choose to atone?”

Jamie’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. In a flash, his eyes and scars flared, then fell dark, and he went slack in Mako’s arms.

“Jamie?” Mako shook him. He felt like a heavy sack - completely unresponsive and cold. He looked back up at Angela, emotions welling up in his chest. “You knew this would happen.”

“I couldn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

“What happened?”

“He had to atone for what he did. You heard what he’d done.”

“But - is he -” Mako trailed off and looked down at Jamie. He felt so heavy in his arms. “God, he’s so cold.”

Angela was quiet, reaching out to touch Mako’s arm. “I’m sorry. I never expected him to have someone like you.”

“Me neither.” He pulled Jamie closer and rested his chin on his head. There were no signs of life; no subtle pressure of the feeling of him breathing, no air blowing onto his arm. He closed his eyes. “Dammit, Jamie.”

It felt like an eternity had passed, that the cold had settled into his bones and he’d frozen to the spot, when he heard Angela gasp. Mako opened his eyes and looked down. Angela quickly grabbed his phone and pointed the light at the scars on Jamie’s arms; the thick stitching seemed to evaporate before their eyes, the scars closing up to be nothing more than light pink lines.

He didn’t have time to process it before Jamie lurched upwards, gasping for air like he hadn’t breathed in years.

“Jamie!” Mako took his shoulders again, holding him as he coughed and trembled.

“Fuck!”

Angela held the phone up, a smile slowly spreading on her face. Jamie finally managed to start breathing normally and held up a hand to block the light. “Fuck, that’s bright. Fuck, it’s cold!”

Mako reached around to take Jamie’s chin and pull his face towards his. Jamie looked up at him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. His eyes no longer glowed; in the dark, Mako couldn’t tell what color they were.

Mako laughed and pressed their foreheads together. “You asshole.”

“I’m pretty sure I just saw that Buddhism is canon.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Went through the whole wheel of reincarnation and everythin’. Seriously, goddamn, either of you have a coat? I’m freezin’ me tits off.”

Angela laughed, putting a hand over her heart. “Let’s get inside.”

Mako immediately draped him in a thick flannel blanket on the couch. In the light, he saw that Jamie’s eyes were a light amber color. That explained the orange glow, surely. “Do you feel okay?”

“I feel like I just got hit by three different semis.”

Angela had gone to her car to grab a medical kit. “In case of a medical emergency,” she said as she pressed a stethoscope to Jamie’s chest. “I hear a heart beat. A little fast, but that’s to be expected.”

“So that’s it, doc? I’m a real boy?” Jamie grinned despite his shivering.

“I’d... be cautiously optimistic over the next few days before I’d say anything like that.” Mako sat next to Jamie, pulling him close. Angela smiled and stood, putting her equipment back into her kit. “Call me if anything changes. I have tomorrow off.”

“Okay.”

“You scared me,” Mako finally said once Angela had stepped out the front door and the crunch of gravel under her tires had faded.

“Sorry. I... it was weird.” Jamie nuzzled into him. It felt so nice to have a warm body leaning into him instead of the room-temperature he was used to. “Like dreaming. How long was I out?”

“A few minutes. Do you... feel different?”

“Yeah. Hungry, mostly. Cold.” Jamie paused, his lopsided grin from the playful comments slipping. “Complete.”

“Good.” Mako’s eyes drifted closed again. He was very tired, he realized; the emotional turmoil of hearing Jamie’s confessions and nearly losing him was taking its toll.

Jamie laughed quietly and put his hand on Mako’s cheek. “Think you could use a rest.” He felt Jamie shift around until the blanket was draped partly over him as well before leaning back into him, and sleep claimed him shortly after.

He woke up the next morning at the sound of Jamie tittering happily, and smiled.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, long time coming - sorry about the wait. But this is the end. Maybe. Might be some one-shots or whatever.

On the first day, Mako found out that Jamie was not a morning person.

Sure, he’d been happy to wake up next to Mako, but waking up and actually  _ getting _ up were two dfferent monsters. He much rather preferred cuddling up to Mako, tossing a leg across his lap and faceplanting into his chest, rather than face the idea of  _ doing _ things.

Mako tried to call into work, but the weather beat him to the punch; it was snowing too hard for any work to get done.

So the first day, they huddled together on the couch, watching television. Not exactly what Mako imagined they’d be doing the first day of Jamie being alive, but he couldn’t help but find it all the more special in its normalcy.

“This couch is really lumpy,” Jamie said after a lunch of reheated frozen pizza, eyebrows crinkling.

“Yeah. Need a new one. Feel any different?”

“Nope. Startin’ to think I’m in the clear. Hey, think we could make that stuff you made for that dinner a while ago? That was good.”

“The bread? Takes a couple of days but if you want...” Mako shrugged.

“Yeah. Why not? Beats bein’ a useless lump all day, much as I like doin’ that.”

Mako grunted, ruffling Jamie’s hair.

The next day, Jamie didn’t wake up. Not immediately, anyway, but there was just enough delay that Mako started to panic. When Jamie finally opened his eyes and stirred, he clung to Mako’s chest for a solid fifteen minutes in apology, holding him tight.

“36 hours and you’re still kicking. Think you’re in the clear,” Mako finally said.

“Should we start celebratin’ now?”

“Maybe.” He rolled over to pick up his phone and sent a text to hana - ‘jamie’s cured. wanna come over?’.

“Ooh. You magically whipped up a cake while I was sleeping?” Jamie nudged him with a sly grin only to be greeted with a palm enveloping his face.

“I’m not your damn mother.”

“It’s worth it to dream!”

Mako’s phone buzzed, and he was greeted to a barrage of happy emojis from Hana. ‘OMG DEF!!! movie nite?’

“How would you feel about a movie night?” He asked.

Jamie thought on that for a long moment, then shrugged. “Sure. Why not? As long as it ain’t one of those sappy Christmas movies.”

Mako snorted and sent Hana a text. ‘sure. you pick. invite whoever.’ “Should probably go out and get snacks and stuff then.”

“...Shit, Mako - know what I just realized?” Jamie sat up straight, blinking at Mako with wide eyes and a mildly awed grin. “I could go with ya for that. I mean, and not have to hide.”

Mako smiled back. “You could.”

Mako’s hypothesis that Jamie was at least mildly attractive in life held true, he noted as he glanced over at Jamie on the drive to the hypermarket. Without that weird undead pallor and eyes that didn’t glow, he was kind of cute, especially the little excited jitteriness he had just from something simple like snack shopping.

Lucio’s moped was in the driveway by the time they got back. Lucio and Hana were sitting on the front porch, and Hana beamed at the two of them. “Hey! Grats on the not-dead thing!”

Jamie bent at the waist to bow dramatically. “Ta. Gotta say, think I’m likin’ it.”

Mako snorted and adjusted the bags in his arms to ruffle Jamie’s hair. “Alright. Inside. What do we got?”

Hana pulled a few DVD cases out of her bag. “Uhhh, I grabbed  _ Moana _ -” Mako must have made a face, because she said, “Oh relax, you’ll love it - uh,  _ Pacific Rim _ , aaaand  _ The Babadook _ .”

Jamie nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve never heard of any of those.”

They started with  _ Pacific Rim _ , much to Hana’s delight. “Ok, tell me you don’t see these two in Mako and Raleigh,” she said to Lucio with a giggle, pointing a thumb at Mako and Jamie.

Mako grimaced. Right, that’s why the name sounded familiar. He shook his head, setting his arm around Jamie’s shoulders as the movie started.

He had to admit, in a very vague sense, he could see what Hana was getting at, especially with the scene of the two of them floating on the ocean at the end. However, as the credits rolled, Jamie made a confused sound. “I don’t get it.”

“Oh come on! You two are totally drift-compatible.”

“No no - I see that. But I think we’re more of those two scientist guys.” Jamie grinned, one corner of his mouth raising higher than the other. “I’m the bloke with the tattoos.”

“Yeah, I think I see that a little more.” Lucio nodded.

“Alright. I wanna save  _ Moana _ for last.” Hana uncurled her way off the sofa and switched out the DVDs.

“So this is the Babathingy? Sounds weird.”

“It’s a horror movie.”

“Also a gay icon, apparently.”

Mako snorted.

Jamie clung to him with anxious anticipation the entire movie, eventually devolving to covering his eyes and squealing in fear at the scarier bits. Admittedly, it was hard to pay attention when watching his reactions was so entertaining, but even Mako found himself a bit shaken by the ending.

“Wow,” Lucio said. Literally everyone had pulled their feet off the floor and onto the couch at that point, and they all seemed hesitant to move to get more food or use the bathroom.

“Alright. Bathroom-slash-snack break, then the feature of the night.” Hana clapped her hands and took the plunge of daring to leave the safety of the couch.

“Think I’m gonna have nightmares for a week now,” Jamie said, turning to Mako and craning his neck in an unnatural position with wide eyes and making that weird croaking sound. He choked and coughed as Mako shoved his hand onto Jamie’s face.

“Stop it.”

“Okay!” Hana clapped her hands as she returned, switching out the DVDs again. “I haven’t seen this yet, either, so this should be fun.”

Almost immediately into the movie, Mako felt a pang of familiarity. He could hear Hana and Lucio whispering, but he tuned it out in favor of watching the movie with rapt attention.

“Hey, Mako,” Hana whispered after some musical number. “Did you recognize that language they were singing in?”

Mako shrugged. “Kind of. A lot of words sounded familiar.”

Luckily, he wasn’t the type to cry at movies, but he did find himself speechless when the credits rolled.

“Those are all the movies I brought. Lucio, you brought a few, right?”

“Yeah, but...” Lucio glanced to Jamie, who was roughly halfway into passing out against Mako’s arm. “Maybe save ’em?”

“It’s pretty late,” Mako agreed, nudging Jamie back into wakefulness before standing up and stretching. “Gonna stay the night?”

“Might be a good idea. Those roads can get pretty slippery at night,” Lucio agreed.

“Ugh! I didn’t bring a brush or pajamas.” Hana dragged her hands down her face and sighed. “Oh well. Not like I have anywhere to be tomorrow.”

“Go to bed,” Mako told Jamie, who mumbled something incoherently before trudging upstairs. “I’ll get some blankets.”

“Thanks, Mako.”

Once he was sure the kids were comfortable and settled in for the night, he went upstairs. Jamie stirred as he slipped under the covers and giggled. “Good night.”

“Yeah.” Mako watched him for a moment, pursing his lips. “Hana told me about a place that does boba out in the city. We could go tomorrow.”

Jamie smiled widely, scooting closer to throw his arms around his shoulders. “Aw. Yeah, let’s do it.”

“Weather permitting.” Mako let one of his arms drape across Jamie’s hip.

“Okay.”

Months passed with surprising speed. Mako never got around to furnishing a new bedroom for Jamie; the few times they had to sleep apart, it didn’t feel right. So it became a little metal shop for Jamie, under the promise that he wouldn’t build anything explosive.

Christmas, they invited everyone over; Ana brought Fareeha, who was home from her tour. Even Angela joined them, if only for an hour before she was called into the ER. It had been a long time since Mako had been able to celebrate a holiday with anyone he considered family.

Jamie got him the ugliest Christmas sweater he’d ever seen, home-stitched with a giant pig on the chest. He wore it for the next three days.

In spring, there was a knock on the door. Mako was in the kitchen making lunch when Jamie hollered, “Mako! It’s Angie!”

Sure enough, Angela was standing on the front porch, smiling warmly at Mako as he came to the front door. “I just wanted to check on the two of you. You seem to be well, Jamison.”

“Like a fiesty emu,” Jamie said proudly, puffing out his chest and patting Mako on the arm. “Sorry I was a cunt to ya before.”

Angela blinked in surprise, clearly not sure how to take language that must have seemed crude to her. Mako started to apologize before she shook her head. “You were right to be frustrated. Remember to call me if anything changes.”

Mako settled on a swinging bench he’d bought for the back patio, and Jamie was quick to join him, staring out at the dead corn field. “Gonna do anything with it?”

“I should. I dunno.” They both stared at the empty post in the middle of the field. It had been loosened in a bad winter storm, now leaning to the right.

“Or just sell it off. Sure you’ve got a neighbor somewhere that’d want it.”

“Doubt they’d want the grave behind the barn.”

“Far as they’d know, it’s a fox den.” Jamie paused, taking Mako’s hand. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“What?”

“I’m scared.”

Mako blinked, glancing over at him. “What?”

“I keep thinkin’ I’ll go to sleep and... I dunno. Wake up back on that post.”

Mako frowned, pulling him into his chest and glancing back out at the field thoughtfully. “Got a chainsaw. Could cut it down.”

Jamie laughed, pressing into him like they’d get torn apart if he let go. “Or we could... move. It’d kind of cement things.”

Mako pondered that. Although Mako did like the location, the land  _ was _ still cursed, as far as they knew. And Jamie was never going to feel comfortable living near where he’d died. “Think there’s a few houses for sale in town.”

Jamie purred. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We can go look.” Jamie didn’t move, and Mako snorted, throwing his arm around Jamie’s shoulders. “Later.”

“Later.”

They watched the sun start to come down over the tree line, and Mako felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Content. Finally, things were good.


End file.
